Bitterness
by TheRoadNotTakenRB
Summary: Piercing green eyes. She will rise as a Champion, like a predator stalking it's prey, she will wait. But to what extent? Hana Matsumoto's discovery of a bittersweet love in her passion of tennis. Leaving a ripple of expectations and inquires in Rikkaidai and uncomfortable talents in Seigaku. 'Delicate beauty', concluded Yagyuu, 'a true devil indeed.' RyomaxOc
1. Prologue

_"A bridge of silver wings stretches from the dead ashes of an unforgiving nightmare to the jeweled vision of a life started anew." Aberjhani, The River of Winged Dreams._

Marui Bunta was happy. It's a perfect day, he was with his best friends-the tennis team. He had a cheesecake before practice and Marui planned on going to the new cafe to try out their new desserts after a few rounds of his favorite sport.

"Increase your weights by 1lb." Ordered Sanada Genchiro as Kirihara Akaya and Niou Masaharu groaned. Marui felt no need to complain. He was casually playing a set with Yagyu Hiroshi as they paused to add more weights.

It was a typical Sunday, school would be rolling around soon and Marui as well as the entire Rikkaidai team couldn't wait for the tennis season. Just thinking about it got him riled up as he began jumping up and down.

Feeling the weights drag him down, he frowned. Moving to his bag, he uncovered a box of raspberry cheesecake. Using a rather large spoon to eat, he sat happily as Yagyu watched in dismay.

Yukimura and Sanada each added 3lbs as they calmly rallied in the far courts. This exercise was endurance and neither were tired. In the court to the right, Jackal and Yanagi challenged each other with tricky edge hits and the occasional lob. Sweat trickled their backs as the sun beat down over the tennis courts, if say a serious game was played; there was no doubt who would win. Friendly competition kept them all up to par with the Rikkaidai motto, losing is not tolerated.

It could not be better shown for the court nearest to the exit as Niou happily formed into Kirihara once again as Kirihara tipped towards his devil transformation. Chuckling to himself, Niou taunted the junior repeatedly. Convincing himself that this is indeed helping Kirihara control his Bloodshot Mode, he began to study him and occasionally mock his Devil Mode as well.

Sanada looked from his court as Kirihara had succumbed into his infamous Devil Mode, sighing as he calmly caught the oncoming tennis ball with his hand. Sanada looked exasperatedly towards a bemused Yukimura. Before he could do anything to call Kirihara from his demon mode, a boy's voice interrupted him.

"Sugoi! Hana-chan you better come and take a look! This tennis court is huge!" Cried a young black haired boy as he ran into the tennis courts.

"Kaito, come back here. There's people playing." Called a loud male voice as 4 kids made their way into the courts. Sanada's eyes narrowed at the new visitors, a tall brown haired teenager and two girls of about the same age. They were all quite lean and had long gangly limbs. With the exception of a petite black haired girl as she followed what Sanada assumed as her younger brother.

Kirihara was too absorbed in his game to notice the visitors as his tunnel vision and need for blood took over. Serving Knuckle Serve over Knuckle Serve, Niou had trouble dodging them all much less returning them.

Suddenly a young boy ran into his court as he released the ball, into the pathway of the serve. Niou's eyes widened as he reached to pull the boy behind him. In a flash of bluesy black hair, both boys stumbled into the ground.

The entire regulars team rushed forward.

Kirihara looked up angrily at the inky haired female who had caught his Knuckle Serve before it had bounced. It spun in her hand as she lifted it up, holding it out to him. Kirihara raised his eyes, glaring at the girl. He let his racket slip further down his grip as he prepared to swing at her. Devil Kirihara was angry. And he was about to use the best way he knows to express emotions.

Hana wasn't heartless despite what people may believe, and quite frankly they had every reason to. But seeing her beloved sport turn into a viscous hobby especially with her brother involved, she had to step in. Her brother would have been fine behind the pony hair male, but her tennis pride wouldn't have been. It took 3 strides and a technique she had been practicing to be able to safely handle the serve.

Well, almost safely.

She winced as it made contact, she could feel the angry rope burn on her palm as the ball continued to roll. Hana hissed but clutched the ball tighter. She noticed the way he let the grip slide down, and she didn't plan on being here to see the outcome of a violent red and white boy.

Marui was dumbfounded that this female, who couldn't be older than Kirihara, managed to catch his serve before it bounced. Even more surprising as she calmly handed the ball to a Devil Kirihara, which you could never get him to admit it but Akaya scared him in this form. As Marui notices the grip of the racket tighten, he had little time to warn the girl.

Several members stepped forward to hover around Kirihara, close enough to stop him but far enough to dodge whatever attacks he may have.

The girl turned and glared at her brother who quickly stood, brushed off the dirt and mutter a thanks to Niou as the boy ran away to the teens by the exit.

"I believe you owe my brother an apology." Hana said calmly, already imagining the burning red mark on her right palm. Trying to ignore the sizzle, she imagined ice, cucumber and aloe ointment pressed onto her hand.

It had made her feel better, just a little.

"Why you insolent-" Kirihara cut off as she blew her hair out of her eyes, and glared.

Hana was impatient, which was a rare sight with having to deal with so many dominant personalities constantly in her life.

Kirihara froze in mid swing as she glared at him. Marui felt the temperature drop, the entire team and even Sanada and Yukimura felt a shiver.

Bright green eyes.

If that wasn't it, she had big eyes. Large doe like eyes, with the freak contrast of her inky blue hair, she scared Marui and he was pretty sure the green of her irises were unnatural. During this time, she had been peering at everyone with half-lidded eyes. Uninterested and bored, Hana had planned to find a quiet corner and play tennis.

Sanada was shocked that such a small girl had such piercing eyes as he was out of the direct gaze but felt the intensity of the glare. If anything, Sanada concluded that Akaya Kirihara and this girl were related, with their seaweed hair and bright green eyes; but intensity got to a whole new level with this girl.

Hana muttered impatiently as her lipped pressed into a thin line. Delicate beauty, as Yagyu studied the angered female, a true devil indeed.

Hana stepped forward and in one swift motion, slapped him. Loud and hard, the sound echoed in the courts as Akaya dropped his racket in shock. Sure it seemed unnecessary, rude and totally disrespectful. Judging on the possibility of her brother getting hurt, the damage done and her tennis pride. Hana had concluded that the slap was exactly what he needed.

Shame, she had thought the boy was rather cute.

"Kaito." She called in a shaky voice as the boy opposite to her reached up to touch his newly red cheek, "Are you okay?"

A meek boy pushed past his other sister, "Hai."

As Yukimura took a step forward to assess the situation, it was rare for the Child of God to be stunned. Not only has her eyes captured the invincible team of Rikkaidai but her actions as well. To even his surprise further, Kirihara turned back with a red handprint on his cheek, and wide questioning eyes.

Gone was the Devil Mode.

Seiichi narrowed his eyes, he had noticed Yanagi frown from the other side of the court. They shared a glance, a slight gesture to indicate that both were indeed on the same page. As Hana switched the tennis ball into her left hand, no doubt they both had noticed the redness of her palm and trickle of blood down her fingers. She clenched her hand and stuffed it into the pocket of her denim shorts. Without another word she turned and walked off.

Clutching the ball tightly, Hana cursed herself under her breathe as she looked up to face the looks of her siblings. Emiko scowled, her blue eyes were daggers; no doubt preparing to report to their parents of how much shame she had caused the family. Kyo's lips pressed in a thin line as his usually warm brown eyes turned cold.

Hana's eyes lost their glare as she lazily dragged over them and gazed over to the group of teens. She made her way closer as she was interrupted by the gaze of her youngest sibling, Kaito stepped forward; his blue eyes gazed in unspoken apologies. They were the same height and Kaito was exactly 10 months younger, but it had felt like there were years between them. Accepting his arm, they walked towards the exit as Ryo walked towards the player closest to him, Jackal.

"My humblest apologies for the disruptions my siblings have caused. As well as your friends well being, please accept my family and I's apologies." As he bowed. Ryo scowled mentally, it was his cool facade and ability to keep a brick wall of emotions that will lead him into a successful businessman in his future. Knowing full well it was not Kaito's fault, he snarled internally at Hana. They could not afford to loose face shamelessly, he thought in annoyance as he turned.

"Please. Don't apologize. It was my team who had caused this incident, I sincerely apologize for my member's actions. I assure you this will never happen again. I wish you and your family health and good fortune." interrupted Yukimura formally.

"Arigatou." With a turn of his heel, he left the court with Emiko. Kaito and Hana were talking animatedly just outside the courts, or rather, Kaito was talking to Hana. Who was smiling gently and comment once in a while.

Sanada turned to glare and probably send Kirihara into harsh training and dizzying laps. But not before Kirihara called out, "Hey! What's your name? Lets go out on a date!"

Jackal, Yagyu, Marui sighed as Niou and Yanagi slapped their forehead in disbelief, Sanada quietly ordered Akaya to do enough laps to make him unconscious as Yukimura's eyes followed the fast paced female. None the less, they were relieved that Devil Mode was gone but idiot mode was back.

Kirihara was answered with a tennis ball thrown over the fence. Hitting the target: his other cheek. Much to Niou's amusement, as Akaya got up and continued to yell loudly after the girl.

Yukimura picked the ball up as it rolled by his feet. It was a different tennis ball, with a streak of black across the neon yellow fuzz and neatly printed name below it; it was custom made.

The team leaned in curiously.

"Hana Matsumoto." breathed Marui, Yukimura smiled as Sanada yelled at the team and had ordered several dozen laps around the triple tennis courts.

Pleasant to meet you, Matsumoto-chan.

….

"Hana, please come downstairs for a moment."

"Hai, Okasan?" Asked the bright eyed girl, as her mother undoubtedly showed her favorite daughter a prize winning smile.

She had rushed down the stairs at the sound of her mother's call. Rule number one of the Matsumoto household, listen to mother. Which stretches to being in front of her within seconds of call or answering quickly, it was the family etiquette. Because, like all mothers of course, they hate to be ignored.

Hana bowed lowly in front of her smiling parents and sat down at the tea table, before her were plates of fruit, snacks and a tray of a hot water tea pot with dried tea leaves in a delicate cup to the side. She placed her hands carefully on the table like she's been taught, and sat straight. Her mother placed a teacup in front of her, with a small arigatou, Hana analyzed her beaming parents.

Emily Matsumoto was born of Italian descent, daughter of a teacher, where she worked her way up into the prestigious schools and into her father, Kurou Matsumoto's life. Both brilliant scholars but it was Emily who had the drive whereas Kurou who had the money.

Now stockholders and investors for several large companies, they had relocated to Japan. Having to raise the children with several languages growing up, they had the basic understanding of Japanese, it was Hana who had the passion for linguistics. Emily Matsumoto had no doubt her family will stay on top.

"Have you decided on a school yet?"

Hana thought about her answer before raising her electrifying green eyes to her mother's pale blue ones, "No, I have not. I would like to visit Seishun Academy."

"That can be arranged. You may visit with Ryo tomorrow. And your thoughts on Rikkai Daigaku?"

The corners of Kurou Matsumoto's mouth lifted as he watched his daughter consider her answer. He had heard about the incident from several different people, but he had no doubt his daughter made quite the impression.

"An interesting school, but I doubt if it's for me."

"You have not seen the full extent of it." Her mother stated calmly, "perhaps we will visit again during school hours."

"Hai, thank you Okasan." Hana bowed her head.

"You may be excused." Said her father calmly, wanting to discuss with his other children. "Call your brothers and sister as you see your way out."

Several minutes later, with a short nod from Ryo and a lengthy one sided argument with Emiko; the rest of the siblings sat politely before their parents.

"Children, have you decided in your preferred school?" Asked Emily, as she was aware of the several information packets sent by many schools and the visit to Rikkai Daigaku today.

"Hai." stated Ryo, the oldest boy in the family. Striking resemblance of his Japanese father, complete with his chocolate brown eyes and skin, with the exception of his mother's glossy brown locks and build, at fifteen going on sixteen; he was at the peak of his teen years. "I wish to attend Hyotei High for my secondary education."

"Very well." Nodded Kurou, "Emiko?"

"Hai." Answered Emiko, the oldest girl in the family. Chocolate brown hair and dark blue eyes, at age thirteen going on fourteen; she was at the top of her middle school years. "I want to attend Rikkai Daigaku."

Her mother raised a calm eyebrow, "If that's what you want. And Kaito?"

The youngest of the family squirmed in his seat, at 10 years old, he wanted to continue to enjoy the rest of his childhood. Middle school caused nii-chan to act mean, Kaito concluded, it's because of the experience, he turned bitter.

"Rikkai Daigaku Elementary."

Behind the door of the small sun room, stood Hana. Listening in to her siblings' decisions, she concluded to her own.

I will attend Seishun Academy.

I will climb my way up as a Champion.

Hana smiled, perhaps this will be exciting.

Perhaps.

….

**Hello! **

**Thank you for taking the time to read this :) please do leave a review as I will be happy to take any criticism and advice. I will hopefully to be able to update regularly and I hope to reply to some of your reviews and messages! **

_**M.**_


	2. 1: The Big Three, One of Three

Chapter 1: The Big Three, Two of Three

_"It's lack of faith that makes people afraid of meeting challenges, and I believed in myself." Mohammed Ali _

Hana listened for the footsteps of her siblings as they moved through the house, the light skipping steps of Kaito; the calm, calculated strides of Ryo and the unnerving stomps of Emiko as they left their rooms to go visit Hyotei Academy's high school division.

She had declined the opportunity to visit the impending high school for her brother, to be able to get her hands in those school information packages sent. They each had several obtained based on their hobbies and club activities, but as soon as it was sent and received.

Emiko claimed to have the sudden interest of Hana's tennis information, she had gripped Hana's tennis package as well as her own basketball information and ran upstairs before anyone could stop her.

Hana had merely glanced at where the package was with her usual uninterested expression and nodded.

After hearing the tires of one of the family Mercedes' roll off their driveway, Hana headed up stairs and into her sister's room. Emiko's bedroom was at the end of a long hallway, away from the ruckus of the house as she called it. Heading into her sister's pink and white room, she found her tennis papers in the trash. Seeing Emiko's basketball information circled and highlighted heavily she sighed, no doubt was Emiko the more slovenly one in the family.

Hana closed the door quietly and padded through the halls towards her own room at the far end of the house by the backyard. Her room was quite large, clear windows, sleek and low furniture.

The wall opposite to the door was covered with closets and cupboards, lime green as the rest of the shelves. Beneath the cupboards was her queen sized bed, snuggled between the space to the right of her closet and bed stand.

To the left of the bed was a floor to ceiling window, and to the left of that were book shelves attached onto the wall; again, lime green. Adorned in medals and trophies of contests, tournaments or community tennis matches and many classic novels, and beneath it was her desk.

This could all have been chosen by a single signature, a list of her likes and a hefty check towards some designer who assumed her taste in furniture. But Hana had a corner that she lived for, to the right of the room, where she spent most of her nights instead of the vast lonely space known as her bed.

There, was a sleek and shiny black drum set, several bean bags, and a large shelf of tennis equipment. Beside it was a modern (yes, again lime green. Can you guess her favorite color?) lounge chair and stand with an impending lamp that often or not, hit Hana in the head as she got up after a good book.

She had thought it was too much, but then she saw her brothers' rubber track floors and wall painting of a stadium to a tennis court bed. Hana liked simplicity, but it was the simple complexity that drew her in.

Now, she was happily on the other side of the house.

Away from people.

She had always thought of herself as normal, but until recently; she didn't know if she _wanted_ to be normal.

If she wanted to fit in.

Or what she wanted at all. Except tennis, she's always want tennis.

Closing the door, as she sat down on the lounge chair. Turning on the lamp, she flipped to the first school, which was Rikkai Daigaku. Knowing that these were ordered from most known for, exclusive, talented or most accomplished tennis teams; Hana got a highlighter ready.

_"Welcome to Rikkai Daigaku Fuzuko Tennis Club! Losing is not tolerated_."

She furrowed her brow, it was quite harsh and blunt and Hana was honestly surprised with this choice of doctrine the school has chose to impose on the students.

_"Established in 1878, we are proud of our past achievements as the current champion and two time past winners of the Japanese National Tournament. Headmaster Yoshizawa Tsutomu is especially credited the team's success to the team Captain and tennis veteran, Yukimura, Seiichi.." _

There was a picture, of a striking boy with blue hair and an oddly beautiful face. Hana narrowed her eyes, a strange sense of déjà vu as she continued to skim the page.

"_Vice Captain, Sanada, Genichiro and also a team regular and treasurer, Yanagi, Renji. Together, they had led the best eight players, out of our 52 talented members of the tennis club, to victory year after year." _

She had read enough, this school had everything she had been looking for in a school. It was clear who the main reason of success were, as a third year captain; she had presumed. It was that Yukimura guy and his to sidekicks that led the team into its national caliber.

Hana wondered about the difference in skill between the worst member of the Tennis Club and the Captain.

She wondered about the possibility to overcome this Yukimura, Sanada and perhaps Yanagi challenge while becoming a member of the team.

She also wondered about her studying in the same school as Emiko, who no doubt would either convince the student body they were not related and that she was in fact a desperate beggar or disown her as a sister before they begin school.

Hana did not want to take the chance with Emiko.

Anyways it just wouldn't be the same, she concluded, a game can not be casual practice. Hana had wanted to test the best of Japanese tennis and she planned to. It wasn't the a case of who's letting her, more like who is going to _stop_ her.

Hana stared at the logo of the school determinably, as if her green eyes can burn the shape into her memory. If Rikkai Daigaku Fuzuko was the best team in Japan, if Yukimura Seiichi was best damned player in Japan, then Hana will climb the bloody hill of pain and triumph over them both.

And rise as a champion.

Was that what she wanted? Hana, furrowed her eyebrows; all she wanted to do was to play tennis.

Just tennis.

She flipped to the next page, Seichun Academy. Even though she had concluded to attend the school, Hana was uncertain of their facilities and ability in tennis. Sure, she had heard far and wide about Seichun Academy, Hyotei Academy and the famous Rikkai Daigaku Fuzuko Tennis Clubs. A word of the mouth can only go so far as a recommendation. But doubt is a funny thing.

"_Seishun Academy as well as it's high school division, has continuously impressed tennis fans and spectators around Japan with their continuing talent and ambition in regional and national tournaments..." _

So they didn't make it.

_"The school is in Tokyo, established in 1925; it's 33 members of the Tennis Club take pride in its school's history. Principal Ishikawa, Hiroyuki has predicted success and championships to come under the watchful reign of Captain Tezuka, Kunimitsu.." _

Watchful reign?

_"Vice-Captain Oishi Shuichiro with the advisory of famed coach of Echizen Nanjiro, Ryuzaki Sumir-"_

A sudden sound downstairs at the front door, Hana froze. Relaxing as she realized it was a turn of a key as she heard Kaito's light foot steps rush inside.

"Hana! Get downstairs! Now! Onisan is taking you to Seigaku Academy." Called Emiko impatiently.

Had it been that long already? Hana quickly dressed herself, and passed the kitchen for a fresh packet of skittles as she headed into the car. Ignoring the patronizing glare of her sister, she lazily looked over her.

"Sorry, I didn't know you were back so soon." She settled into the leather seats, feeling the heat in the back of her thighs, and through her denim shorts.

"It was a brief visit." He said, gazing out the window, "Today is a school day. Please behave yourself."

"Hai, hai." Hana replied carelessly as she ripped open the bag of was a pregnant pause before Ryo started conversation again.

"What happened to your hand?" He slowly turned towards his sister, people never understood the sibling relationship they had. Or rather, they didn't believe they were related.

Electric green to his hazel brown, blue shaded ink hair to his golden brown. Their features share the same straight nose, small jaw and defined cheek bones. Whereas he had the higher cheek bone and stronger jaw, his sister had large eyes, whose color came from their Italian grandmother. They shared the same steely look and competitiveness, and to Ryo, that was enough.

Hana put the skittles in her lap as she lifted her right hand. When she had gotten home yesterday, she indeed had added ice and rubbing cucumber and aloe ointment. The burn had take up most of her palm so to avoid further damage as she gripped things and most importantly, her tennis racket. She had wrapped it in clean linen bandages just past her wrist.

It still stung, she could still envision the look in that boy's eyes as he aimed. Kaito had avoided looking her in the eye ever since he had caught sight of the bandage at the breakfast table.

"Nothing, I burned myself."

And that was the end of their conversation, granted Hana had not had a decent conversation with her siblings in a long time, if not ever.

Define a decent conversation.

Her thoughts were interrupted as they arrived at the school, tall metal gates and stone bases. Suddenly, the cherry flavored Skittle tasted like over-chewed gum in her mouth. She quickly popped in another piece as she skimmed the exterior of the school was quite large, a tall tower with a large clock chimed as they stepped out.

Twelve o'clock, lunch time.

Hana watched and observed as students flowed from the doors and took their place under trees, on the field or headed to their designated clubs. Occasionally popping a skittle into her mouth, she kept an ear towards the awaiting principal's introduction as she examined the school.

"..is Ishikawa Hiroyuki, welcome to Seishun Academy. Or known as Seigaku to the students."

Ryo had nodded politely, "My name is Matsumoto Ryo and this is my sister, Matsumoto Hana. Please take care of us."

Talking for the both of them, Hana looked at Ryo gratefully as she turned and bowed towards the principal. He smiled delightfully as he led the siblings through the gates and into the main halls.

Students made way for the threesome, like the river, they removed themselves, as if repelled, out of their way. The principal smiled pridefully and love the demonstrate of power he had in the school. Proud of the respect they had for their principal, but as he looked back to see if the Matsumoto's had followed him. He's pride wavered.

The two kids had this air of intimidation and self preservation that he felt _nauseous_ approaching them. Both stood tall, in ones case, who was; and in the other, her _aura_ just made you automatically to look to her as she stepped into the room.

Even though Hana was a mere 4'11, she fully looked at each and every inquisitive glance. And just as she suspected, they moved out of their way, looked away or both. Curious, she continued to chew on her candy as she slipped her skittles into the pocket of her denim shorts.

Hana followed Ryo and occasionally tuning into their conversation and introductions. She had past the double gym as several girls were playing one of her favorite sports, volleyball. Hana peered inside as the principal (she had long forgotten his name) chatted happily about new and improve equipment to Ryo. Who was barely nodding with interest only because of his politeness.

"Excuse me." They turned towards her, "May we visit the classrooms?"

The principal blinked at her, "Oh, yes. Yes. We shall visit the first year's first.."

"Is it possible to skip grades?" Interrupted Hana again.

Ryo shot her a warning look, she pretended not to see it as they made their way past the few students in the hall as it was almost fifteen minutes into lunch.

"Yes, you have the choice to participate in a more advanced class if your test scores, or entrance test in your case, allows you to do so." The suspiciously thick headed man explained, "You are a first year?"

"Hai."

"Then you should study with first years." The principal smiled at this small victory in the case of his pride.

Both students had caused him to feel new, inexperienced and _small_ as he showed them around. His patronizing tone reminded him that politeness was needed for a Sensai, which was he. He turned in glee of his small achievement and felt no joy from the look on her face.

Hana's face was expressionless, her lips pursed into a straight line as stared back at the principal. She was not impressed with the patronizing and scolding tone of his voice, like someone with no concern of a decision in someone else's life. A disregard of opportunity for convenience.

The girl terrified him, it was a personal and familiar fear. He had realized, that the girl was not exceptionally beautiful, neither siblings were. But they were indeed good looking, a unique type. Her eyes were too big, too seeing, and her mind was too sharp. And that indeed, scared him.

Hana Matsumoto, he concluded, has the gaze of God. He felt naked and shameful of his patronizing tone over the youngster. There are people who has the beauty, the gift, the talent. But she has made you feel like whatever you have, is _nothing_.

It is _worth_ nothing.

And it will _never be_ anything.

The principal smiled ruefully, "Excuse me, this is class 1-3 It's the closest one to us at the moment.."

And Hana tuned out. No doubt Ryo will remind her of the important areas she might need to remember. She gripped the sleeves of her large flannel shirt out of habit as they made their way into the class.

They a brief chat with the teacher who was reading at his desk, there were half a dozen students scattered around the room as they ate in groups surrounding ones table. Giggles and laughter and excited chatter welcomed her.

Hana dragged her gaze over the groups and met eyes with a girl sitting in the middle of a particularly large group. The girl quickly averted eyes as some of the group members turned to see what their fearless leader was looking at.

But they had already left the classroom.

…..….

Fuji Syusuke strolled into class with his fellow team mate and friend Eiji Kikumaru as they had finished lunch. Shaking his hair out of his eyes, he smiled as he listened to his energetic friend talk about the upcoming inter school tournaments. Knowing exactly when to nod and smile, he had noticed at the corner of his eye that Sensai was late.

Fuji smiled as a usual greeting towards the giggling girls that had crowded his desk. The class had settled down as roll call began. An apologetic and flustered teacher had rushed in, the usually happy go lucky Okra-sensai was rushing roll call and had even skipped a few names.

Some students stifled their giggles. The honey haired Tensai, smiled in understanding that maybe he had a bad day or it was one if those days. Okra-sensai quickly sent the room into silent read of their favorite notably advanced English novels. As Fuji pulled out his personal favorite book; To Kill a Mockingbird, Okra-sensai opened the door just as a knock sounded.

In came their Principal Ishikawa Hiroyuki who was explaining the grounds of the school animatedly and followed were two students. Out of the corner of his eye, Fuji quietly watched the guests. Inquisitive that their principal would personally give a guide, he assumed they were rich, well known or children of parents who fit in those categories.

A tall and fit brown haired teen, his arms were muscular and had slim bulges. Fuji assumed that he was a runner, with his grace and natural glided walk. A bit too old to be in middle school, the boy was handsome with japanese features and a foreign build. Fuji could see a competitor out of this new visitor.

As Principal Ishikawa continued to explain the fundamentals of dividing classes by skill, the boy had turned back and grabbed something or someone from the door way.

Fuji quickly turned and scanned the room and sure enough, several students were as curious as he. As he turned back, the boy had pulled a girl into the room.

She was surprisingly short, he had thought as the boy latched onto her left wrist, she wretched it from his grip and popped some candy, Fuji assumed, into her mouth.

The girl had just past shoulder length blue hair, dark enough to be black. Slim, long calf and thighs as her leg muscles flexed as she walked, he had assumed that she was a volleyball player from the bandage that wrapped her left palm. Clad in oversized flannel, short denim cut offs and a black tank, the girl turned impatiently.

Hana had enough of this tour, enough of this wig wearing principal; she had assumed from his oddly full head if hair at his age. And enough of the looks her brother had sent her every time she turned to explore by herself. Smiling politely towards the teacher, she bowed and wretched her wrist from Ryo's suddenly gentle grip.

She allowed the teacher, who introduced himself as Okra-sensai, to give an overview of their yearly class plan. Hana turned to scan the room as the dark haired teacher talked quickly and blabbered about their future lessons.

She could tell they had made them nervous and could almost sense the dislike in the principal as he eyed her. Gripping the sleeves of her large shirt, she lazily checked out the almost studious students of one of the top English classes in the school.

Several people were mindlessly staring at walls, and one or two girls in the back were passing notes. Several people were hunched over their books, trying not to seem obvious while peeking at the visitors. Her emerald green eyes stopped at a honey brown haired male sitting near the front who was shamelessly staring back just as curious. Cerulean blue eyes and a feminine feel, with his male uniform and surprisingly boyish charms, she had no doubt that this was a male.

Very male indeed.

Hmm, she thought, he's cute.

He had large eyes, deep to light blue, like the clear water under the sun of a hot summer day. Hana studied him, staring at him just as openly and challengingly. Several moments past as the corners of her lips raised, she almost smiled as he unconsciously looked away.

Next to him was a red head who was scribbling ferociously in a notebook. His book lied open upside down on the floor.

"..for the final project we will be creating our own short stories in English with references and quotes from famous and well known authors, leaders and notable people from our civilization." concluded Okra-sensai, taking a gulp of water as Ryo and the principal thanked him for his time. Hana just nodded and somewhat half bowed in respect, she then followed Ryo out of the room.

"Excuse me. Pardon me, I have forgotten your name." Hana paused, as the principal's face slowly turned hard and nodded stiffly, before he could input his name; she continued. "My brother and I would like to continue to tour the outdoor facilities privately. Would you mind? It would be terrible to waste any more of your precious time."

Mocking me, he had thought, she is mocking me. The girl's air of superiority sparkled as he opened his mouth to object.

"Yes, thank you for the tour today _Principal Ishikawa_." Ryo emphasized, "We will take your attitude that represents the school into understanding."

Ishikawa felt like he was negotiating with business men and royalty. Nodding as he numbly headed back into his office to tackle indeed a lot of work piled up for wasting his precious time.

He smiled thinly as the siblings made their way out, secretly hoping neither will attend this school.

…

Anyone who knew Hana wouldn't be able to tell you much about her.

Other than her immediate family, they knew next to nothing. She only gave what was required in information because she once read, _Scientia Potentia Est_ or translated as 'knowledge is power'. And as a young girl, she took that to heart..

_Her favorite color is green. _

The only reason her class knew that, and they took it by heart by giving her everything green; was because of an essay she had to write and present to class due to her outstanding marks.

And maybe that was the beginning of curiosity. She was quite popular in elementary school, with boys and girls following her. Hana understood people, and she knew how to handle people.

Much like the boiled frog method, her favorite method; if you place a frog in boiling water, it will jump out. But, if you place a frog in warm water and slowly heat up the water, it will be boiled.

And she got older, the more she understood the term 'independent'. More importantly, the root 'dependent'.

She respected silence.

And she understood lonely.

Hana knew what was alone.

What was _pain_.

And the only notion of drastic love that could change her mood no matter what was towards her passion of tennis and the arts.

As in those years, her parents brought the children as they toured Europe for their business ventures. She had learned to grow, to fight and to watch.

The importance of listening and knowledge between places. The gullibility and doubt one has.

Because in the end, Hana learned that no matter who you are, what you are and where you are. There is guilt, regret and all those nasty and annoying things that people want to forget.

And she learned it all.

She understood her faults, and played to her advantages. The stubbornness that kept her head floating in water will be the weight that drags her down.

Hana spent months practicing everything with her left hand so that she would become ambidextrous, from writing to tennis. Now, she was so heavily ambidextrous that whichever hand has a pen can write.

She had stayed up for hours playing tennis, volleyball and dozens of sports to improve her instinct and reflexes. Spent days training her memory and learned the basics of analyzing. She had poured blood and sweat into her life, and as time passes.

Her achievements will pile up.

It wasn't arrogance.

It wasn't pain.

It wasn't experience.

It was _time_.

_Time_ that had gathered the sights and sounds, the blood and tears, the medals and trophies that had rendered herself to be no choice but on top.

That had her confidant about her strengths and weaknesses.

That had her attitude of failure is a lesson learned that will not be repeated.

That_ bring it on _was the only way to face life.

…...

Hana had recalled the principal mentioning something about the tennis club's regulars having 2 free periods to have practice.

Muttering something about walking home, Ryo merely looked at her and nodded. Turning his heel he headed towards the awaiting car, but not before suddenly turning and chucking 2 bags of skittles at his turned just barely and caught both with one hand as she continued to walk towards the sounds of the tennis courts.

She stopped at the large board that hung outside the change rooms as she threw away a finished Skittles wrapper and opened another one as she stuffed one in her pocket. Large block letters announced the monthly inter school matches that are determine the regulars team to enter the upcoming season.

Hana smiled genuinely, throwing in another Skittle into her mouth. Only to have it bounce off her teeth and land on the ground as she made no move to catch it. Suddenly scowling, she placed another in her mouth. Not wanting to waste anymore of that piece of heaven she has.

With the District Tournament around the corner, no doubt it was nearly impossible to replace a player. Hana stood in the shadows of the trees as she analyzed the players in blue and white uniforms.

Top spin.

Twist serve.

Lob.

Left corner.

Merely stating the obvious, she saw their stances and form of playing. Her eyes took in the team as they practiced, surely impressive, as she had not seen a team practice before.

Hana drank in every detail as squeals broke her out of her reverie. She turned to see two girls hovering by the fence. One with freakishly long braids and another with pigtails, they both wore the standard uniform for girls.

"RYOMA-SAMMAA!" screamed the pig tailed female as the other girl shied away, blushing like a tomato.

Hana chewed the Skittles meaningfully, times likes these, she truly hated her gender. Everything about her screamed desperate, she ran a hand through her thick hair as she took a deep breathe.

"Shameless girls who have nothing better to do. " she muttered as she walked by the path next to the courts. She had no respect for girls who would lose themselves over a guy, much less an actor or musician.

"Hey! Did you just call me shameless?" The other girl shrieked, Hana visibly cringed at the loud sound. She was honestly surprised that the girl heard her over her ecstatic yells over some Ryoma guy.

At least she hoped it was a guy.

"Ano, Tomoka-chan. I-I'm sure she didn't mean it..." Started the other girl as Hana kept her head up and continued walking.

"Oh I meant it." Hana muttered under her breathe, she turned briefly and smiled sarcastically towards the two.

Tomoka Osakada was a proud person, proud of her love for Ryoma Echizen and as the President of his fan club, she planned to show her love in every form and way. So that included dragging her best friend, Sakuno Ryuzaki to their practice even if it meant skipping school.

She had insisted that the teacher was too old to notice anyways. And as this girl decides to mutter under her breathe, her ears caught onto the sneering tone of her voice and a few words. Tomoka would not stand being called on and teased about her love for Echizen, so she did what she usually did.

Screamed it loudly to the world as the social embarrassment crippled the bully.

Sure, this girl was prettier then the rest. She was dressed differently too, and walked with this, this thing that caused Tomoka to not want to mess with her.

After Tomoka screamed it loudly, the regulars turned and stared at the situation. Now, the social embarrassment of the most popular people in school! Thought Tomoka gleefully as she was sorely disappointed.

That girl just kept walking, head high and long calm strides. Tomoka felt her face turn red, she yelled after the girl. Sakuno pulled on her arm, telling her that she probably didn't mean it.

But, she had the nerve to turn and say something!

_And something witty! _

Catching a glint of bright green eyes, Tomoka quieted down. That was more like the vicious gaze a predator has for it's prey. Suddenly losing the fight or as she liked to say, preserving her voice for more important matter; Ryoma, she turned to Sakuno numbly.

"Y-yeah, she's not worth it. I'd rather save my breathe to cheer on Ryoma-sama. She probably didn't mean it."

_Pathetic_. was the first thought in Hana's mind as she walked past the second court. The wind had brought a fresh scent of spring into summer, as she dangled the bag of skittles by her fingers.

"Did you?" drawled a voice inside the courts. "Mean it."

Hana turned to see a boy roughly the same height as her, with a white cap and uniform of regulars. Slim and muscular, she could see the future heartthrob in him.

Hana stopped walking as she turned her head to face him. The boy was facing the other way, and turned his head as well. They stared, no studied each other's faces.

Large cat like eyes, and a strong hazel glare. A steely determination of a single minded goal stared back at her.

He has beautiful eyes, she thought.

Light hazel to bright green.

Moments passed, the corners of their mouth lifted in unison. Understanding each other and respect as equals. To meet someone so alike yet so different in each extent, they shared a moment of searching.

Hana turned away, pausing to say, "Every word."

Ryoma Echizen watched the mysterious green eyed girl leisurely strolled away. Grabbing the nearest Seigaku tennis ball, he bounced it off his racket and over the itself in her path, she would walking into it.

Those eyes, he thought, I would not forget. The girl had faltered a step and held out a hand, a bandaged hand, and caught the tennis ball snugly.

Without turning she raised the tennis ball in gratitude or was it farewell, Ryoma wasn't sure, and continued walking away.

..

_As two ribbons of life cross path, what is on top or below. _

_It is a never ending cycle of striving to be and pretending to be. It is simple as it is complex. _

_The two ribbons of fate will tie together in ways connecting deeper than ever before._

_Or cut each other apart more deeply and more painful than death. _

_But it always begins with a simple meeting. _

_A word. _

_A gift. _

_And a recognition. _

….…

Ryuzaki Sumire breathed in the steam from the hot cup of tea she had just poured. Closing her eyes briefly, she could feel the stone faced captain's curious eyes on her. She had summoned him to her office, taking him out of class.

"Tezuka, sit down. It's nothing, just some information regarding the regulars of our team." She said breezily as she took a sip of the steaming tea. Gasping at the heat, she no doubt burnt her tongue.

"That's not nothing, Sensai." Alas, he sat down.

"What do you think of Ryoma Echizen? I hear he has been added to the line up." Ryuzaki commented, "The next inter school match is coming up."

"He met the requirements needed to become a regular." She smiled, he continued."Yes, I am aware, sensai."

Ryuzaki sighed; ever the expressionless and cold character, she thought. In front of her was a thick envelope, large and smooth, it was an official looking document. She pushed it forward towards Tezuka Kunimitsu. Who calmly looked at her and opened the letter, a pregnant pause as he quickly scanned the document.

"A grant?" He questioned as he flipped through the package briefly.

"Hai, permission to admit females into male tennis clubs and vice versa." The brown-green haired leader raised an eyebrow, "Several schools do not have the facilities that we have, so they only have one team of one gender. It's a grant to allow other genders to compete and participate in cross gender, non-contact sports."

"That's unfair in certain sports. Giving the other team an advantage in certain areas if they allow boys into girls teams." The glasses wearing buchou stated.

"Hai, that's why there is a list." Ryuzaki pointed out, "Tennis, ping pong, cricket and I think a few more." Tezuka nodded as he read the list, indeed tennis was on top.

"And what of this list?"

"Anyone in mind?" Truthfully, Ryuzaki wished to recommend her granddaughter, Sakuno. But she knew that her skills were far from the abilities of a regular, even a normal tennis player much less.

"We have a girl's team." He stated, setting the package down on the desk. "Please excuse me, sensai. But I must get back to class now."

Ryuzaki nodded, "Your teacher will hand you a copy of the grant. Think about it Tezuka."

"Hai, arigatou sensai." Tezuka bowed and walked out.

Ryuzaki sighed and drank her tea, a much cooler temperature as she rolled the water in her mouth. With the District tournament in a few weeks, she knew that the stoic captain would not risk anything for victory.

Ryoma Echizen was a new prodigy in the growing team of 8, in addition to Inui, the self-hired manager. His talents are untrained in the team and need to be honed and led towards growth, she felt the pressures of the third-year captain.

Now?

Ryuzaki thought the national title was very well within reach with the new addition of the team.

.…

**Thank you for taking the time to read my little bits of imaginatian :) please leave a review or message me. I'd love tlinear your thoughts and suggestions. I will update regularly if I feel that there are people reading my work. **

**Love, **

**_M_****.**


	3. 2: The Big Three: Two of Three

Chapter Two: The Big Three: Two of Three

_"It is easy enough to be friendly to one's friends. But to befriend the one who regards himself as your enemy is the quintessence of true religion. The other is mere business." Mahatma Gandhi _

The train rumbled as a girl leaned back and felt the vibrations shake her. Sprawled across the seats of an almost empty train carriage, she leaned her head back against the worn plastic seats. A few elderly sat down to her right and a small business man sat across to her left.

Hana peeked open one eye to watch the moving shadows on the carriage floor. Slowly, she closed her eyes, leaned back and felt the passing rays of the sun hit her. With only a bag of skittles left, her tongue was streaked with colors. She planned to save it for later, when she got to Rikkai Daigaku.

The light summery breeze from an open window left a scent of life in the air, the dry and warm feeling gently lifted the ends of her hair, like a loving caress.

Hana was happy, it was a beautiful day and that, in her own terms, was a solid enough reason to be content. The smell of summer intoxicated her with hopes of a perfect day, with visions of perfection and joy.

_Happy_, she mused, what a general word for something so great.

Hana thought back to that boy, with hazel eyes. His determination of a single minded goal shocked her. He was so _sure_. And Hana didn't want to tell him any different, or didn't have the heart to. Regardless of his goal, the boy's stare left no room for regrets, for doubt and Hana knew that the odd greenish black haired boy would _not_ fail.

But at what cost?

The calm vibrations of the train stopped, she opened her eyes. The world was a bit hazy around the edges as she sat under the sun's afternoon gaze. Rubbing her eyes, she noticed a vibrant colored hair make its way into the train. Hana stared, almost certain that it wasn't a natural coloring.

Too bright.

Too big.

And too shiny.

Hana picked at the bandage on her right palm, as an odd piece stuck out, she scowled. Picking off the carefully placed tack, she unwrapped the bandage and studied her palm closely. Placing the tack on the seat next to her, Hana placed her hand under the sun.

She squinted as the sun brightened her palm, red and minuscule scabs, and in an odd rounded shape. The train rolled into another pause, at the corner of her eye she noticed the tack that was used to secure her bandages roll off the seat. Her left hand shot out to catch it, only to grab a wrist, who had caught the tack skillfully between 2 fingers.

"Arigatou." Hana moved to pick the tack from the stranger's fingers but they closed into a fist over the little clip. Her eyes moved up from a black and yellow sports uniform which has surprisingly enough appeal to avoid looking like a bumblebee, past a pair of lips that seems to be chewing, straight button nose, to sparkling amethyst eyes.

The boy smiled, "You're welcome Ana-chan."

She furrowed her eyebrows, "My name isn't Ana. Can I have my tack back? I need it."

He studied the girl, "You are Ana. I remember! You threw a tennis ball at Akaya! Mahumoto? Mahumoto Ana? I think."

"My name isn't Mahumoto Ana." she snapped, reaching for it once again.

"Then what is your name?" The boy questioned, sensing her impatience. "I'm Marui Bunta, nice to meet you. Again."

Hana stared into the smiling eyes of Marui, he shivered. "Matsumoto Hana. I don't remember. Gomen."

He sat down beside her, eyeing her injury; he picked up the bandage on her lap and pulled her hand towards him. "You should feel pretty honored, a national level tennis player from Rikkaidai is wrapping your injury." He teased.

"Rikkaidai?" She echoed, "You don't have to you know." Referring to her hand, she withdrew it from his grip only to have him pull it back.

"I feel responsible because someone from my team caused it." Marui said a-matter-of-factly.

"You don't know that."

"Then I'm being nice." He raised an eyebrow, "If it wasn't Akaya then what happened to your hand?"

"None of your business." Hana retorted as he finished, "Arigatou."

Her right palm has been wrapped neatly and each square of linen was used properly, with the clip nestle between her wrist bones. Unlike the ones she'd done herself, in which the bandage would bunch at her wrists; she felt like she was wearing gloves that got into the way of everything. Impressive, she thought.

Marui smiled, he knew he had won this round. Spitting his gum out the window, he took another large packet of green apple bubble gum form his pocket. At the corner of his eye, he noticed Hana pull a large bag of skittles as well. Both teens opened their respectful candies in the same gentle way, carefully popping in in their mouth as the train lurched into a halt.

"This is my station." They both said simultaneously. Marui blinked at the girl, Hana stared at him before turning her heel and walking out the train.

Marui stared after the girl, she was shorter then he had remembered. Her plaid shirt was too big, ending under her shorts. Marui watched the girl as she strolled out the platform before realizing that he wasn't behind her.

"Well?" Hana called, turning just so the sun's rays sent a sparkle of light on her smiling green eyes, "Aren't you going to show me Rikkai Daigaku's famous tennis team?"

Smiling, he nodded as Hana left him behind once again. Marui caught up and began light conversation as they made their way towards the school.

Upon his insistence and an agreement, they stopped at a favorite cafe of his. Hana smiled as she waited in line with Bunta, he searched the menu frantically, although she secretly suspected that he knew the hand written chalk board by heart. After ordering several small cakes to go and buying a cupcake and drink for her, much to his insistence.

They continued to down the road carrying small plastic containers of cakes and desserts. Marui was easy to talk to for Hana, her usually introverted personality was disrupted by his inquisitive manner. She still allowed Marui to effortlessly keep the conversation going, often or not to begin an argument varying tennis topics to engage her. He had noticed her green eyes sparkle for every word that passed her lips about tennis.

Perhaps it was that this was her first long lasting friendship; or so she hoped, since her youth, being homeschooled by private tutors and the odd months of missing school had rendered her socially disabled. Hana thought Marui was the first person in a long time that shared her passion for competition, that shared her views on her Achille's heel: Skittles and most importantly, a love for tennis.

She was still wary of the information she had given, but collected much about him. Third year at Rikkaidai, which he insisted she call it by the common name or she would sound "like a foreigner" he had teased.

Volleying specialist and doubles player, although he assured Hana that he could hold his own in singles just as modestly. The self-proclaimed Tensai dished details of his well known moves and as well as his teammates. From the faint details of Hana's memory, she had not realized that the boys she had encountered were indeed the current national champions.

"Marui-san, aren't you late?" Hana asked as she caught sight of a clock as they passed a nearby store.

Marui checked his phone cautiously, wishing that it was not true, that he was not indeed tardy. Having to miss school for the day from crashing from a sugar rush, he could not afford to miss practice. The mere thought of the dizzying laps Sanada would assign him was enough motivation to slap on his uniform and drag himself towards the cold stone building of Rikkaidai.

Unless you were dying or Yukimura, you need to attend practice. It was the golden rule. Marui had thought as he quickly finished his cupcake.

They looked up as a slew of students rounded the corner of the sleek metal gates of Rikkaidai. The boys in khakis and deep green suit jackets, paired with a turquoise striped tie. And the female uniform was no better in Hana's opinion, a turquoise and white lined shirt with a brown or deep green skirt, some wore long green socks and the occasional tie or suit jacket.

Marui freaked out, grabbing Hana quickly by the wrist, he sprinted off towards the tennis courts. She had just finished tossing away her plastic cupcake container when she was dragged towards the upcoming students.

Hissing as Marui gripped her right wrist tightly, digging the tack into her skin; she wretched her wrist from his grip. Hana kept an eye on him as he sprinted away, not aware that she was not behind him.

Rolling her eyes, _Boys_. She thought.

Keeping her eyes on Marui, who was gradually becoming smaller as she kept her head up and stalked towards him. Not caring if people ran into her, they often removed themselves when they realized that _she_ wasn't going to move.

Several people had eyed Hana with distaste, dressed in denim shorts a tank top and a large flannel shirt. It was obvious she was not a student.

Another reason which Hana would care less.

Marui had rounded a corner and Hana began to run, not wanting to get lost in such a large school, she had not paid any attention during the last tour of the famous private school.

Just as Hana reached the corner, where several rose bushes budded under the afternoon sun, there was no sign of Marui. She paused as a pair of girls giggled and squealed as they ran past her, she had contemplated asking them for directions but they had left before she could say anything.

Hana picked up the sounds of tennis balls being ricocheted onto fencing, the warm afternoon breeze had smelled faintly of fresh sweat against grip tape. And for some reason, as she stepped into the light, she grinned widely.

Marui had rushed towards the courts and pulled out his racket just as Sanada and Yukimura stepped into courts. He had a fleeting thought of a lost Hana, as he quickly walked over to Yukimura, wanting to excuse himself to search for her.

Turning to scan the courts, Marui had caught sight of a familiar green-eyed girl. Who was standing under the sun behind the rose bushes. Her gentle smile against the warm ray's of the sun gave her youth and joy far beyond what Marui had seen of her, even noticing a dimple on her left cheek. The wind had picked up Hana's hair as she stood and stretched like a cat.

"Hana-chaaann!" He called loudly, as Yukimura looked over Yanagi who was conversing with him. The team turned towards the bubble gum loving player in surprise.

Hana's eyes snapped open at the loud call, quickly scanning her bright eyes over groups of tennis players scattered around, her gaze landed on a new friend. She walked over as he waved, passing the fans who had turned to see their beloved volleyer call after a girl.

"Oi, Bunta. Who are you calling?" questioned Niou, "A girlfriend?"

Marui didn't answer the questioning gazes of his teammates as he watched her make her way towards them. Several senior girls had stepped into her way, Marui frowned as Hana eyed them in a careless fashion. They had made a move to grab her when he watched her speak a few words, and the girls scowled but backed away nonetheless.

"No, I found her on the train when I was coming to practice. She was coming to visit Rikkaidai so I offered to take her." Marui grinned, "You might remember her, Akaya."

Hana had carefully stepped around the annoying pests known as the people who brought disgrace on her gender. She had held her head high, back straight and walked tall. Not very tall, but her eyes made up for the rest as she gazed into the inquisitive glances and dazzling glares of males and females alike.

"It's you!" A black curly haired guy called out gleefully as he stepped in front of her. "Here to go out with me? I knew you would come ba-"

"I don't know you." Hana snapped, a strange sense of déjà vu as she studied him. Curly, wild black hair, dark green eyes and a certain wildness to his look. She suddenly remembered who he was, from the look of distaste of his yellow and black uniform to a quick scan of the players eyeing the pair.

"Oh, you're the violent one." She said awkwardly, before turning towards a peculiar blue haired beauty of who she recalled as the Captain of the national team, Yukimura Seiichi.

Yukimura had eyed the newcomer the moment Marui had called her, Hana. _Matsumoto Hana_, he had thought with interest. Amazed at her ability to utilize what she had, making up her height for intimidation, Yukimura understood that she and him were along the same lines of thought.

He smiled as she walked past Akaya who was pouting from her abruptness, Yukimura looked at her.

Really looked at her.

Her right hand was bandaged, but he had noticed the small calluses on both her hands, in a form that he knew all too well. The rough calluses that he himself felt on his left hand when he rubbed his hands together.

"I hope I'm not intruding, Yukimura-San." Hana said as she stepped up towards the three intimidating figures. Carefully eyeing the fragile looking captain, she looked at the brown haired boy whose eyes seems to be closed, but she knew better. Frustrated she could not see his eyes, her gaze moved into a pair of soft brown eyes, a surprising contrast to the harsh expressions of his face under the shadow of his cap.

"Not at all, I was wondering when you would return, Matsumoto-San." He replied, "Would you like to join us?"

Feeling the curious gazes of the 53 members of the tennis club, Hana turned and sent a harsh disapproving glare around the courts. They turned sharply and resumed their playing nervously, although keeping an eye on the intimidating girl.

"Marui-san had promised me a game, but I could care less about who I'm facing." Hana pulled the bag of skittles out of her pocket and pouted as she felt the melted candies. The regular's team watched in amusement at this childish gesture as they paused their practice games to look over at the guest.

"Hai, lets play Hana-chan!" grinned Marui as he looked towards his buchou for approval.

Sanada's frown deepened, he was annoyed that the arrival of a little girl had disrupted his practice. He had thought that she was rude, too daring and too moody with her lashing glares at anyone and everyone who stood in her way. In some ways, it was admirable, but Sanada had believed that girls were meant to be shy, polite and the occasional meekness.

Practicing judo for years, he had adopted the traditional ways to understand the opposite gender. This Matsumoto Hana had fit none of the categories of a proper young lady, although he was sure that she processed an annoying nagging reminder of a Yukimura Seiichi in her.

"No." The team turned towards Sanada, "Continue to practice, and twenty laps. Everyone."

Niou cursed the girl, promising to trick her later as he made his way around the fences. He had thought of her as nothing more than an arrogant, fan girl who interested Yukimura, although the latter rather impressed him a bit. The team had almost believed that he was gay. Jogging at a calm pace, he scowled at the girl, thinking of brilliant ways to crack her most definitely fake exterior.

"Akaya." Called the gentle captain, Kirihara paused and jogged towards him, breaking away from the group. "Play a match with Hana."

He perked up, "Hai!"

Sanada watched with annoyance as Yukimura allowed Akaya to skip laps to play a mock match, he would not acknowledge her as an equal opponent, with a little girl.

Speaking of her, she was staring at the running regulars. All the more reason to dislike her, Sanada thought.

Hana opened her mouth to speak as the tall brown haired male thrusted a dull silver racket into her hands. He had turned his heels before she could say a word, managing to weakly call out an arigatou.

The racket was heavy, and she had no doubt that it was weighted. Her eyes traveled past the back of the capped male, and onto the awaiting captain, whose jacket flowed with the wind. Smiling at the challenge in their precious captain's eyes, Hana grinned, _Bring it on_.

"Genichiro," Yukimura called as the fukubuchou quietly stalked away towards their teammates, "You don't mind judging for them, do you?"

If it was possible, his frown deepened. A permanent scowl was etched on to his face, wondering of the sanity of their captain, letting a little girl he had just met play their junior ace. And disrupt practice!

Sanada wordlessly headed to the tall chair, "One set match, girl serves." He had decided that being honorable, he was going to be polite and allow her to have the first serve, making the decision for Akaya. Seeing the girl practice swinging, Sanada has seen nothing special, with proper form and speed; it was no better than some of the lower members of the tennis club.

Perhaps he had felt guilty as Yukimura handed him a weighted racket towards the girl, surprised at his captain for such a bold move. Sanada had concluded that this girl had no chance of winning.

Hana frowned as she felt the weight of the racket, gripping it with her left hand she practiced swings and pulled at it to get a feel of the strings. Pulling the strings tightly, she had scowled as the mature looking boy called out her serve, "No, it's okay. I don't want it. You can take it."

Kirihara's eyebrows raised in surprise, but nodded anyways.

"One set match," Sanada had gave her the opportunity, she didn't take it. Either she's a fool or ignorant, he had thought. "Kirihara serves."

Kirihara had served gently, not wanting to harm the girl, but he was indeed curious at the little display of talent she had shown the other day.

Hana smiled, slamming her racket into the ball, loving the feeling of the transfer of force as it pushes the ball. Still getting used to the foreign racket in her hands, it wasn't the first time she had used a weighted racket but none as heavy as this. Rallying calmly, and feeling her body warmed up, she jumped larger steps between her chase towards the ball to stretch her legs.

The team had finished their run, not at all have great impressions of the girl. Watching from the benches as they got water, curious at the long rally.

"She's warming up." Marui turned to see Yukimura watching the game intently, he had accidentally swallowed his gum, popping another in his mouth.

Yagyuu and Niou turned away from the game and headed to a court in the farthest right, deciding that the girl was worth none of their practice time and a risk of Sanada's wrath.

Even with Yukimura-buchou's interest.

Marui stood by Yukimura and watched as Jackal and Yanagi looked at them in disbelief, they too turned to continue their practice. Yanagi was yet again intrigued by the girl, so he had chose the court next to theirs as Jackal and he began to rally.

Hana's right wrist was sore, and the sweat from the heat of her bandages made it hard for her to grip the racket. Unable to feel the grip tape, she had wanted to try playing with her right hand after the injury.

The burn had rubbing uncomfortably against the bandages with sweat. Not bothering to chase after the impressive corner shot, she stretches her limbs. Hana used the heavy racket as a tool as she touched her toes and stretched her arms.

"Fifteen love." Called Sanada, as he watched her make no move to go for an average shot. Was she tired already? He had questioned in disbelief. Even more surprised at the youngster who began stretching leisurely, seemingly from experience.

Impressed that she was in habit of stretching before a match, Sanada had wondered if she played regularly as the girl probably knows the significance of pulling a muscle.

Kirihara waited for the girl to finish stretching, he was beginning to feel waves of disappointment setting in from the edges of his consciousness. He had been excited and even more so as it was obvious Yukimura buchou had his sights on the girl. Anyone who had interested their buchou like that was interesting enough for him to pay attention.

He pulled a tennis ball from his shorts, bouncing it to his side as he drew back and served. Might as well end this quickly, Akaya thought.

Hana switched to her left hand, wiping the racket with her tank top, she felt the warm grip against her skin. The other boy, Kirihara, had served quite fast, she stepped calmly to the side and swung.

_Thwack!_

The ball slammed into the fencing, looking at the small mark just outside the thick white line, missing by a few centimeters. Hana frowned, stretching her arm again and practiced her swings and backhand once again.

Yukimura smiled as Marui's hand paused, continuing feeding himself sweets as they watched the girl switch hands. Neither had seemed fazed, although Yanagi was quite intrigued as he watched the game at the corner of his eye.

"Out, thirty love." Sanada announced, he had not been paying enough attention to the game before him to see the ball whereas he was surprised at the ambidextrous girl. Totally unexpected but not surprisingly amazing, he was beginning to feel the anticipation of their young junior ace.

Kirihara had not seen that swing, he was sure he could return it. But unexpected from the girl's physique and assumed seemingly low caliber in tennis. Picking up several balls and stuffed some in his shorts' pocket, he felt the yellow fuzz in his hand and in one fluid motion, served smoothly. Akaya smirked at the upcoming ace, he could feel it.

Hana had taken several steps back, not wanting to chase the ball down at its maximum strength, she had waited for a second as it bounced to the corner of the service box. With a grunt, she slammed the ball cross court.

Akaya reflexively reached to return the hit, much like a streak of yellow fuzz, he had missed the ball by a few millimeters. It had bounced off the end of his racket sharply and towards the far courts of Niou and Yagyuu.

"Thirty fifteen." Kirihara slammed his body weight into the serve, quickly getting into position, he did not want to make the same mistake again.

Hana had seen the way he had used his right foot as a pivot point, using both hands to grip the racket, she bent her knees and returned the heavy serve. Akaya was there in a flash, returning it just as quickly. Much to his and the audience's puzzlement, she had appeared before the net.

Hana had ran to the net quickly, she was holding the racket horizontally to the ground, with one end tilting dangerously towards the ground. The speedy ball bounced on the lower ends of her racket, it became a gentle lob just barely over the net.

"Thirty all." Kirihara flinched as Sanada fukubuchou called out another mistake he had made with his eyes, every point he had lost was an imperfection and a step backwards towards his goal.

Sanada-fukubuchou could win without losing a single point, Akaya had scolded himself. Pressing the tennis ball into his knuckles, he bent low and jumped swiftly as he turned his entire upper body to serve.

Hana watched closely, moving her body weight from foot to foot. The serve had bounced right in front of her legs, she automatically shifted back to hit as it suddenly sprang up and nearly hit her cheek. Feeling the power and speed as it barely skimmed her, she straightened up.

"Forty thirty." Sanada had felt odd with their precious junior ace pulling out one of his tricks for a girl. Watching this game carefully, he had decided that it was a learning experience for him, no matter how he detested her.

Pressing the ball into his knuckles again, Kirihara shifted so there was more spin on the ball. Making it spin much more wildly as it hit the ground, bouncing even closer to her face.

Hana moved forward as soon as the ball hit the ground, ignoring the dark mark it had made on the ground but rather using the spin of the serve to return the ball. Turning her racket sideways, she used the odd angle to cradle the tennis ball, sending it cross court.

"Deuce." Kirihara had stumbled as he ran for the odd angled ball, hitting it once again with the edge of his racket. Sending it towards Yukimura-buchou and Marui, who had caught the flying tennis ball.

Gripping another tennis ball tightly, he swung hard. Hana grunted as she used both hands to return it. As Kirihara returned it, she pulling him into an unsettling rally. As if unconsciously, Kirihara backed further and further away from the net. And his returns were more and more predictable, as many times Hana stood waiting for it to come to her.

Deciding the length was enough, Hana moved quickly to the net. Slamming the ball to the side, dangerously close to the the thick white line as it bounced high and was caught by Sanada before it could hit him.

"Advantage," Sanada began, it had occurred to him that he didn't know her name. And already, he had made accusations and judgements about her. The logical mind of his scolded his cold behavior while his tennis fukubuchou mind had dismissed the fact. "Girl."

Hana had ignored the rude ref and decided to finish this game quickly, ending with an ace return nearly parallel to the net.

It was her serve, as Hana strolled over to pick up a few balls. She took off her long flannel and used a hair tie on her wrists to tame her wild hair. Grinning wildly, it had been so long since she had gotten her hands on a decent opponent. Her left arm was warm, a sign that it was soon to be sore.

Switching the grip to her right hand, she unwrapped her right hand. The sweaty grip did little to help the healing burn, pausing for a moment, Hana wrapped the bandage around the sweaty racket. Bouncing a tennis ball she returned to court. Tossing the ball up, Hana served.

And thus began another rally as Kirihara fiercely fought for domination. Slowly drifting in and out of Bloodshot mode, he returned each ruthlessly. Hana's hand began to bleed, soaking the bandage with sweat and blood. Her hand stung from the moisture and the constant hard hits and quick maneuvering of the racket to protect her face. Her arm throbbed as she lost her service game.

Switching to her left hand once again, ignoring the ever growing crowd of spectators as practice came to a near end. As they switched courts, Hana muttered slyly in his ear, "_Not worth my time, Devil-San_."

Of course, Sanada heard it as Yukimura and Marui saw her lips move as Kirihara gripped his racket tightly, knuckles white.

At 2-1 Kirihara Akaya had succumbed into devil mode, feeling the urgency to win and utterly crush his opponent. It was taking unusually long for each game as both pairs of regulars had finished their exercise. Crowding with their captain to watch the only source of entertainment other than the pathetic games of the lower members of the club.

Even then, Niou had left to terrorize the lower caliber members as Jackal went along to supervise.

Yukimura's warning smile and his sadistic streak were the only things keeping Sanada from ending the match. He had trusted Yukimura to not let the girl get hurt to some extent but not Akaya to play a bloodless game.

_Ping!_

As the ball hit the poll of the street lamp over the fence, once again. Hana had dodged the vicious serve twice now, and she had almost had to bend entirely backwards as he added more and more spin.

Third time's a charm, Hana thought as she eyed his stance again. Smiling at the sudden challenge he possessed, _this_ was what she had waited for during those long rallies. _This_ was her challenge to overcome. Her opponent to crush and the amazing feeling of blood and sweat made worth.

This was her _drug_.

Hana had moved the second the ball had made contact with the ground, using the bottom of her racket as well as the spin of the serve. She had returned it at an odd spin, Kirihara ran to return it; only to have it bounce faster after it hit the ground. He had completely missed the ball.

"Game. Three one, girl." His face stern as he watched his protégé lose to the younger girl, assuming by her appearance.

Hana had lost her service game once again, not gaining a single point as she even had her racket fall out of her hands. Her right hand throbbed as the blood flowed endlessly.

"Yagyuu-kun, please get the first aid kit ready." The gentleman pushed up his glasses as Jackal came running towards them.

"Yukimura-buchou, Akaya is in devil mode." He panted, dark head slick with sweat. A sign of worrying rather than fatigue.

Yukimura merely nodded, "Hai, I can see that."

"Then why is he still playing that girl?" Jackal twitched as Yukimura smiled at him calmly, still taking his duty to look over his kouhai, Jackal realized that he was indeed more worried of a dangerous player rather than his opponent.

"Don't worry, Jackal-kun." An order rather than a console as Jackal sat down and watched the game feverishly. Yagyuu had returned with a rather large first aid kit, setting it down beside Jackal.

"Is this for her?" Jackal asked, Marui stopped eating. He was worried for Hana, even though they had met today, he felt responsible. The cheesecake suddenly tasted like mud as he swallowed, suddenly losing appetite as he watched her blood soak through the bandage like a small crack in the dam wall.

"No. For Akaya-kun."

At 4-2, Kirihara's knuckles were bleeding as he scraped his hand on the ground once again. Several bruises on his shins as he tripped for the ball, which had peculiar bounces.

It was Hana's serve once again, her throat dry and sweat line her hairline. She smiled, calling out to the red eyed senpai, "Done yet? You can only go for so long."

Truthfully, her arms had gone numb from soreness. It was a fight to keep them up as the racket was feeling like a lead block. Adrenalin pumped through her as her smile faltered, realizing how limited her physical condition was.

Staying with her left hand, she had spin the ball before throwing it in the air. Bending over backwards she slammed her weight into the serve. Her muscles were unreliable now, as she didn't bother to chase the returning ball as it landed out.

"Fifteen love." Sanada could see it, he could see her fatigue and the numbness in her arms as there was little movement in her muscles as she hit the ball. Using her body weight was an excellent way to return hard serves but she lacked the strength in general. Already, he caught himself wanting to train and nurture untapped talent, much like the regulars he had brought up.

This time, she had spun the ball and thrown it on the ground as it bounced up, she bent backwards lowly, sent the ball flying barely passing the net at break neck speed.

Kirihara had returned it with a lob, souring over her head and into the fencing with a sharp twack. His knuckles had bled on his racket, making it slippery to hold. But rather than noticing the on growing crowd of club members and fans, the intense looks of his teammates and captain, or even the pain of his hands and leg.

Akaya yearned for blood, _lots and lots of it._

_….…_

**hello,**

**thank you for reviewing my story and for your time to read this. Please continue to send feed back and ideas or criticism. All is welcome :) **

**love,**

_**M.**_


	4. 3: The Rain

Chapter Three: The Rain

***Special note to all Seigaku Fans, they will be appearing shortly within this chapter and definitely meeting Hana by the next. I apologize if you felt impatient to read about your favorite character(s) but I assumed, judging by my past experiences with fanfic, that it would be realistic and rather important to not suddenly thrust the OC into a already built world.**

"_There is no dishonor in losing the race. There is only dishonor in not racing because you are afraid to lose." ― Garth Stein, The Art of Racing in the Rain _

**Recap: **

_At 4-2, Kirihara's knuckles were bleeding as he scraped his hand on the ground once again. Several bruises on his shins as he tripped for the ball, which had peculiar bounces._

_It was Hana's serve once again, her throat dry and sweat lined her hairline. She smiled, calling out to the red eyed senpai, "Done yet? You can only go for so long."_

_Truthfully, her arms had gone numb from soreness. It was a fight to keep them up as the racket was feeling like a lead block. Adrenalin pumped through her as her smile faltered, realizing how limited her physical condition was._

_Staying with her left hand, she had spin the ball before throwing it in the air. Bending over backwards she slammed her weight into the serve. Her muscles were unreliable now, as she didn't bother to chase the returning ball as it landed out._

_"Fifteen love." Sanada could see it, he could see her fatigue and the numbness in her arms as there was little movement in her muscles as she hit the ball. Using her body weight was an excellent way to return hard serves but she lacked the strength in general._

_Already, he caught himself wanting to train and nurture untapped talent, much like the regulars he had brought up. _

_This time, she had spun the ball and thrown it on the ground as it bounced up, she bent backwards lowly, sent the ball flying barely passing the net at break neck speed. _

_Kirihara had returned it with a lob, souring over her head and into the fencing with a sharp twack. His knuckles had bled on his racket, making it slippery to hold._

_But rather than noticing the on growing crowd of club members and fans, the intense looks of his teammates and captain, or even the pain of his hands and leg._

_Akaya yearned for blood, __**lots and lots of it**_**.**

…

He tilt his head back and laughed, loudly and wildly. It had pierced through the air sharply, as the lingering members of the tennis club scurried away. Leaving the regular team and the bloody, _oh so bloody_ pair.

Almost a painful release of frustration and anger, Hana shuddered, it was a desperate sound of a bitter man between a rock and a hard place. Bitter, she had thought as the sound echoed in her mind.

The air suddenly felt cold, as the sun set. Leaving an orange glow to the edges of their skyline.

The darkness settled into their bones.

Throwing the ball in the air, she had bent her arm so far back, she waited for the feeling of the racket hitting the ground. The second the heavy racket tapped the ground in a none too gently way, she threw body forward and released into the serve.

"Thirty-love."

The silence of the darkness as the sudden click of the court lights turned on, illuminating the sweat and dried blood on their bodies. The ends of Hana's ponytail dripped with sweat as Kirihara's hair stuck to his face. Both wild, exhausted and savage towards the primitive reasons of tennis.

Unaware, and most oblivious of the non too frivolous light in their buchou's eyes as they analyzed the match. Finally finding the raw, the untouched, and the self growth. Yukimura watched as Hana used yet another technique to serve, like the ever changing chameleon, he had thought.

Or rather, the ever growing flower.

Nonetheless, he smiled. But if you look close enough, the pride of a discovery was present and prominent in the usual satisfaction of a captain's dangerously sweet smile.

Sprawled across the bench, munching on sweets, head beneath the books, the famous tennis team had no interest in the game. Ignorant and insensitive to the connection of tennis beneath it all. Yet, they were all faintly aware as Hana won her first service game, making the score 5-2.

Jackal and Marui had fretted as their junior bled, a peculiar sight as the mirroring effect seems to exist. A blind eye to the defiant girl on the other court.

Pressing the ball deeply into his knuckles, leaving bloody prints on the neon fuzz, Kirihara had given up on winning as a primary objective. Narrowing his dizzying red eyes at the girl, Akaya's mouth pulled into a satisfying smirk, a snarl in Hana's opinion and a hunter's gaze as Sanada overlooked his junior.

Throwing it high in the dark air, even above the rays of light the court street lamps had produced, he sent it flying towards her. Hana's eyes widened as she moved sluggishly, the ball skimmed her cheek painfully. Already feeling the burn and trail of blood dripping calmly down her neck, not bother to wipe it, knowing that it will burn.

She narrowed her eyes challengingly, flipping the racket in her hands, she taunted him with a smile.

"Love fifteen." Yukimura had sent Niou and Yagyuu to get some ice packs ready as the game was coming to an end. A questioning gaze kept to themselves as they removed themselves from the apathetic team.

With the exception of Yukimura, the team had thought little of the girl, and waited for the comeback of their junior ace. Some how, even _waiting_ for the blood.

Marui had finished his cake as the score rounded to a fifteen all, conflicted with his loyalty to his kouhai and his responsibly over the girl. Merely friendly acquaintances, Bunta would choose Kirihara over her any day, but was fighting his mental impulse at the false hope.

Moreover, he fretted at the blood on her face as Marui scanned the first aid kit, wondering if the bandages would be enough for the ever injured pair.

"Thirty fifteen, girl." Sanada announced monotony, much differing from his thoughts as his eyes shown with interest.

Perhaps even to overlook the disrespect she had begun their introductions with with the given ability that Sanada could polish this diamond in the rough. Excitement tugged at the edges of his thoughts as he could see the girl being trained and properly honing her skills at Rikkaidai.

"Forty fifteen."

Hana had served moderately as Akaya sped towards the net as he returned it at her feet. Sending it smoothly, she had wanted to draw him into a rally, but Kirihara had other plans. Smashing it rather near her face, she bounced off the balls of her feet and tilted her racket much like the beginning of the game.

A high lob over his head.

The ball clattered against the fence after the bounce as Sanada calmly announced the winner, "Game set match, Girl 6-2."

_It was a blur. _

Hana raised her hand up robotically, as the racket skipped from her fingers. The sudden drop of the sound echoed in the quiet court, as if suddenly awaken, Kirihara rushed forward. And before anyone could stop him, he gripped the front of Hana's tank top; showing a strip of skin on her abdomen.

He had growled as their faces were inches from each other.

_I will crush you._

Akaya looked into her green eyes, who was staring back just as intensely.

_There will be blood_.

His eyes trailed down her cheek.

_Blood_.

His grip loosened, Hana stepped down from the tips of her toes as Akaya had pulled her up to match their height difference. Not breaking eye contact, she smoothened out her tank top.

Keeping an eye on the boy, she held out her hand. Akaya looked at her, and with a turn of his heel, stalked away.

Not quite angrily, as his steps were smooth and head held high. Pride was in his blood, just as it dripped down his fingers and ended in small, diminishing drops on the smooth, colorless floor. Loosing the faded colors of bleeding red and whites as he made his way out the courts.

_But Hana didn't notice_.

Nothing at all.

She laid back onto the cold, hard, and comfortable floor and smiled. And grinned. And beamed up.

_Up_, into the world.

_Up_, into the light.

And _up_ into the future.

Because it was _beautiful_.

Hana laid there as Yukimura brought the first aid kit and tended to the girl's hand as the rest of the team followed Kirihara out. Sanada watched the captain and the love struck girl; make no mistake, he had envied the girl.

Envied such release of passion for something so simple.

So mundane.

And Genichiro was excited, of a new flower, on it's way to blooming. As he had hoped to be able to nurture such rawness, such wildness, and of course, such passion.

Leaving a spare racket out on the bench, he tilted his cap and met eyes with the blue eyed boy. There was a reason Rikkaidai had not had a history of coaches since their championship takeover. Perhaps this was a reason why.

Perhaps, this was a reason not worth explaining. Or rather, felt.

And perhaps, the stoic fukubuchou had set high hopes for the girl. Uncaring of whichever school, uncaring of whatever competition, of whatever team she may choose, and rather hopes for the sport-no, way of life to _live_ in her soul.

_To thrive._

_To burn_.

And he and Yukimura would, with no doubt, be the ones setting the spark.

But of course, such hopes were not for a complicated mind as Sanada Genichiro had discovered the betrayal of his thoughts. His wants were different from the reality, hence as Sanada made his way after their teammates, he remembered her name.

_Matsumoto Hana._

….

"_Beauty is brevity in time,_ Yukimura-kun." Hana drawled into the evening sky, her sea green eyes glowed as she gazed up towards the older boy.

"And tennis?"

"Tennis is passion." She replied shortly, before removing her hand from his grasp quickly. "Play with me."

Yukimura was surprised at her ambition, and determination through her exhaustion. Her body was tired, yet she was not. He had not finished wrapping her hands as they both sat in the floor of the tennis court.

Odd, tending to another's injuries, he had thought. Some type of intimacy to the amount of vulnerability to this situation as she completely trusted him. Seiichi smiled, it was a beautiful smile, Hana thought.

Like a poisonous flower.

Pulling her hand back into his care, there was a pregnant pause as he finished wrapping her hand. "Of course. "

Seiichi had understood and reflected the look Sanada had sent as he left the courts. Leaving a small reminder in a form of a tennis racket, waiting impatiently on the bench as he walked towards his own tennis bag.

For a moment, he could have sworn he could not see the ground, Seiichi shook his head. "Only to one point."

Seiichi Yukimura had met all kinds of tennis players in his teenage life time, as his parents had hoped to encourage his talent and eye for tennis with frequent visits to the exclusive social circle of profession sport.

He had seen the pride in a coach's eyes as they find and nurture the best, as they discover something new, and as they find bring something magnificent into the light and build it from sweat and love.

He had seen passion, for winning. Passion for an individual and yet a passion for life and passion for the thrill and adrenaline.

Yukimura had seen fire, everyday. On the courts of Rikkaidai. Knowing that the fire burning in each of his teammates hearts had pushed them far.

Although, winning was the only option. He feared for the ability to push the boundaries of victory.

He had seen hope. Crushed in the faces of weaker wills as they battled it out in the forms of tennis. Lighting up hearts as they grasp the final points. And fighting to be free in the minds of cornered people whose abilities have been buried beneath it all.

Seiichi has seen it all.

And yet, he has felt none.

Felt no pride in a player he had brought, his team was merely a steering wheel whereas he was the drive as Sanada was the gears.

Felt no passion as tennis was soon to be a victory given.

Felt no fire inside his mind and soul as the burning love he had as a boy for tennis was a reason not worth remembering, deemed his mind.

And yet, hope.

Hope to _feel_.

Hope to _live_.

Seiichi had nothing else but hope to live for. And yet, he had not realized that soon, hope was all he had.

…..…..…

Hana awoke to the early morning sun peeking through her thick white curtains, the glow left an ethereal blanket over the furniture as the rays of early morning light danced on her wooden floors. It was one of those rare days she slept in her bed.

Sitting under the rays of sunlight, under the comforting stream of water pounding down on her bare back. The steam rose and clung to the glass of the shower cubicle, she watched the desperate droplets, fleeing from the top.

Marveling at the feeling as the heat soon filled up the large, modern washroom. Hana leaned back, under the shallow water of the bathtub. The hot water sprayed through the shower head, like rain.

She breathed out, her dark hair flowed in the water as she heard nothing but the echoes of water battling each other among the drizzle of the shower head.

_Just like rain. _

_"To two points." Electric green eyes, stared back. _

_He served beautifully, wordlessly, and powerfully as she readied her self like millions of times before. And swung. _

_Nothing but the sound of the ball bouncing into the fence. Mocking her, ruining her and corrupting her. _

_"To three points." She demanded, "Please!" _

_Blood had once again began flowing, staining the fresh bandage elaborately. Larger and larger as the red grew. Ignoring the complaints of her body, the frustration with passion, the inability to do it all and the rain. _

_The rain. _

_It had begun with a drizzle. As the wetness settled into her bones, she hit the ball. Beautifully as it sailed past the net, resulting in a rally. Caught up in the moment of it all, she had failed to realize. Letting the easy return fall coldly to the ground, she stared at the eerily knowing boy._

_"Stop playing with me!" She demanded, as electric green glowed in the illuminating rays of artificial light, "__**Play**__ with me." _

_And thus, gone was her sight. Yet she persisted. _

_Beautiful green eyes, he had thought, such intensity. _

_"To four points," she rasped. _

_Gone was her hearing. Yet she persisted. _

_Whispers of advice and wisdom, he had thought, such mindfulness._

_"To five." She whispered. _

_And gone was her feeling. And where was the persistence? _

_Flames cannot be doused, he had thought, if tended with the right love and care. _

_Neither can the feel of something inside your soul, Hana. Never can the feeling inside your soul, Hana._

_"I will win." She had said, alone. _

_In the whites of her own mind. _

_The gentle pounding in the front doors of her thoughts. _

_Of her determination. _

_Just like rain._

….….

_Shadows settle on the place, that you left. _

_Our minds are troubled by the emptiness_.

Hana strolled down the sidewalk, her head down and her mind racing through the past night as a familiar song blasted through her headphones.

It was a new song, she had not yet listened to it carefully, not yet appreciated the music. She scrambled to grasp the reality and not fall into the ever growing hole in her chest. Unable to hold a tennis racket in fear of the feelings and memories it burned in her.

Hana's hand gripped into fists, only to find that on her right hand was the bandage, one of the many injuries that reminds her that it was not a dream.

Or was it a nightmare?

_Destroy the middle, it's a waste of time._

_From the perfect start to the finish line_.

The wind picked up the light weighted and danced as she passed by. A warm day, the sun not yet smiling as clouds loomed low in the sky.

Matching the dark, dangerous mood as Hana made her towards Seishun Academy.

"Lovely weather." She murmured under her breathe.

_And if you're still breathing, you're the lucky ones. _

_'Cause most of us are heaving through corrupted lungs_.

She had hastily explained her injuries to her parents, something about tripping down the stairs of the train but she couldn't remember anyways.

Hana had avoided the disapproving looks in her family's eyes. Muttering a farewell to her parents as they were flying to Fukuoka this morn.

_Setting fire to our insides for fun _

_Collecting names of the lovers that went wrong _

_The lovers that went wrong_.

As expected, they believed her. The minuscule scars on her arms and legs proved her delicate skin no efficiency in healing completely just as she bruised just as easily.

Hana scowled, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other, she had arrived at the tall stone clock structure known as Seishun Academy.

Hana yearned to play tennis again, to hold the sweaty grip of the tennis racket, the sound of her heart racing as a new challenge.

And yet, she prevented herself to.

_We are the reckless, _

_We are the wild youth_

A small figure stood on the bare roof top of Seigaku, lazily gazing down at the diminishing numbers of students below. The wind whispered in his ear as his inky green hair settled at the nape of his neck, shaking his head out of habit, his hair gathered at the usual bed head style.

A swift blue clad figure moved past the students, a band of white across dark black hair as they made their way towards the school. Unable to tell much from the roof top, he turned away.

Uninterested and bored, looking forward to tennis practice much like every other day he had since advancing into the regulars. To him, classes was what was between morning and afternoon practices.

Using his tennis bag as a pillow, the sleepy boy turned and found himself on the floor of the roof, chilly as there was little sun to give warmth. Ryoma hoped to wake up before lunch, counting the final bell of the morning classes as his alarm clock.

Shifting his back, the gentle winds rocked him into a settling slumber, falling into a makeshift dream of whirlwinds and green eyes.

And of course, tennis.

_Chasing visions of our futures _

_One day we'll reveal the truth _

_That one will die before he gets there._

Hana felt lost, no, it wasn't lost. She paused in her steps as a lonesome soda can rolled past her, the wind was harsh today.

She had no idea what to feel, about tennis.

Always about tennis.

And yet, she had not been able to bring herself to blame the boy. The eerily knowing boy, the beautiful boy, the fragile and seemingly broken boy under his elegance.

And now, she felt so lonely.

Was it winning? She had asked herself, was tennis a part of me, or winning?

It was true, Hana had never lost that badly before. As any tennis player she lost countless times before. But there was always _something_.

And now, it was missing.

There was no _something_ for her to rely on, the sentimental feeling of carelessness as she lost a battle was gone. And it bothered her. The safety net of losing, with the satisfaction of achievement was gone.

And she fell, down the rocky cliffs of self-satisfaction with nothing but a string of determination to keep her sane.

Hana had fell hard, and now?

She felt broken.

_Utterly broken_.

_And if you're still bleeding, you're the lucky ones. _

_'Cause most of our feelings, they are dead and they are gone._

"Tezuka. Stay for minute."

"Hai, sensai?"

The tall figure made his way back inside the classroom, as he peeked out the window of the third floor, clouds loomed low. It's going to rain, he had thought, weight training should do today.

His teacher, a slim, full headed man had handed him a thick envelope. Official and smooth, unopened; Kunimitsu had remembered the very same from Ryuuzaki's office.

"I was told to give this to you. I assume you understand the contents?" He nodded tersely.

"Arigatou."

Clutching the packet tightly against his side, he made his way swiftly out of the classroom. It burned in his hand. Curiosity tugged at his consciousness as his will power wavered. Quickly shoving it between his textbooks, he made his way into the library.

Knowing that not a single thing was to get in the way of his subconscious goal and nagging curiosity of the document.

_We're setting fire to our insides for fun._

_Collecting pictures from the flood that wrecked our home, _

_It was a flood that wrecked this home_.

Fuji Syusuke gracefully sent the ball flying into the basket of the tennis ball machine in the form of a lob as it bounced away from the amount of balls already inside. He heard the soft whirring sounds slowly turn to a stop as he caught the last flying ball.

Giggles and the soft chatter of background noise increased from his sudden lack of concentration as Syusuke looked up into the sky. How dreary, he had thought, it's a beautiful day.

A muted sound of a hollow melody reached his ears as he turned; there, on the side path on the tennis courts was the girl he had seen in class. A wild mane of black, blue hair and sleek white headphones. With her head down and a noticeable scowl, he smiled.

Almost as if noticing his gaze, she glanced towards him at the corner of her eye as she headed up the front stairs of the school.

"It's going to rain." Syusuke said to himself, smiling at the sky.

_And you caused it, _

_And you caused it. _

_And you caused it_.

Hana nearly snapped the pencil in her left hand as the fearless voice rang through her head. Her knuckles white as the indents on the paper as she circled the answer were prominent and close to ripping.

The secretary looked on nervously, too meek to ask for the removal of the headphones as she could hear the music, thus it was not used for cheating.

She had marveled at the dark cloud above the girl's head as she strolled inside and asked for the exam calmly.

Remembering the scheduled exam for freshman, she quickly handed the girl the things and instructed her to sit by the large round table in front of the office.

And yet, every time she could barely make out the melody of the hypnotic song of the girl, she gripped her pencil tightly. The secretary watched as she had split the wood already, sighing in dismay of the girl.

_Well I've lost it all, I'm just a silhouette, _

_A lifeless face that you'll soon forget, _

_My eyes are damp from the words you left,_

Her hands wouldn't obey her as she yearned to remove the headphones, to remove the words from her mind.

From her thoughts.

Totally oblivious to the entrance exam in front of her as Hana had read the same question several times over. Having only an hour to finished the several subjects required on the exam, she stared at the paper blankly.

Her ears seems to have grown as her sight diminished, hearing every crackle and breathe the singer took with every word they spoke.

Hana's hand suddenly released the pencil, lifting her hand to let it fall down to the desk. Her hand, sweaty and had little marks in her palm where her nails had dug reminders into her skin.

_Ringing in my head, when you broke my chest. _

_Ringing in my head, when you broke my chest_.

A teacher had spotted the youth staring blankly at her paper, head in music as she gripped the pencil painfully. With a bandage on her right hand and a painful looking streak of red on her cheek, the tight lipped teacher had frowned.

Young and self-righteous, she stalked towards the teen and tapped her shoulder with sharp but symmetrical nails. "Excuse me. Please take off the headphones."

Hana had shrugged and reached into her pocket to pause the song. Only to have her iPod snatched out of her hands. Her green eyes snapped up, anger and frustration pooled as she glared at the perpetrator. Only to see a stiff, young teacher holding the device with distaste by her index finger and thumb.

"Don't touch my stuff." She snapped coldly, it was hard to be polite. A flash of a disapproving nudge of her conscience as she added hastily, "Sensai."

Huffing to herself, the teacher looked down at the sitting girl, she wasn't sure what to expect as she stared into terrifying eyes, clearing her throat awkwardly, she handed it back.

She felt the urge to prove herself as the youngster looked at her with a gaze of disbelief and annoyance.

Narrowing her eyes, desperate to determine her dominance; "I'd assume you are taking an entrance exam. As you should know, I mark and record all entrance exam marks for the freshman and junior years."

Hana had already turned away, as the teacher huffed away, muttering to herself. Hana snapped her pencil in frustration. Pulling another one out from the side holder, she quickly scribbled the answers as she longed to hear the song.

Feeling as though the last of her emotions had seeped through the water and the rain of yesterday.

_And if you're in love, then you are the lucky one, _

_'Cause most of us are bitter over someone._

Some short time later, Hana stood by the tennis courts. Watching just as she did in her first visit. Rather than analyzing and learning their playing styles, she frowned. Not a single positive emotion as she was weighed down by the frustration and the pitch black of lost answers.

Unbeknownst to her, behind her was a certain Tensai who had curiously followed her from the front halls. Meaning to introduce himself and assumed that the girl was lost, he was surprised at her interest of the girl's team.

As Fuji would never admit it out loud, he was extremely aware of the incapability of the females' team in tennis. Unable to participate in competitions other than charity and sometimes with the urging of Sumire-chan, a rare recreational game against the boys.

She frowned and narrowed her eyes. It was the female team, running scrummages across the courts. Hana watched from the side as several girls had formed groups and sat down, using their rackets to swat at each other's skirts jokingly.

She didn't get it.

Was this tennis to them?

She had questioned, is it as meaningless and a game like the rest of them?

Hana didn't understand people like that, she didn't understand their lack of passion and earnest trying of the sport.

It that what tennis was to them?

As the sudden question occurred to her.

_What is tennis to me?_

She looked up at the grey clouds rolling over the school, "It's going to rain." She murmured to herself.

_Setting fire to our insides for fun,_

_To distract our hearts from ever missing them._

A silver headed boy picked up several tennis balls lying under the peeking weeds of the fence, discovering an odd printed ball; he scrutinized it under the light.

"Neh, Bunta. Why is there a Seigaku tennis ball here?" Holding up towards the red headed boy.

"How am I suppose to know?" He retorted, not bothering to turn to his teammate as he continued to search. "Mou, my back hurts from all this bending."

Niou threw the tennis ball at his back, causing him to hiss in pain as he glared. Picking up the fallen ball, Marui looked at the dry patches of red. Recalling the tennis match days before, "I wonder how Hana-chan is doing." He murmured.

Under strict instructions of Sanada-fukubuchou, the team had left the courts after Akaya, who spent the night drowning his loss in ramen noodles at Jackal's family restaurant.

Sanada was oddly thoughtful as the stoic vice-captain goes as not noticing the amount of wailing the junior had done. Only to have Yagyuu soaked in ramen soup did he assign Kirihara dozens of laps around the block.

Marui looked towards the two captains as they were in an intense discussion near the courts. "I wonder if she's okay." He muttered to himself, gripping the rusty red streaked tennis ball.

Bunta was afraid to think of the blood, to think of the girl he had brought to court leaving with blood streaked clothes.

_But I'm forever missing him._

Yukimura Seiichi frowned, as he was addicted to the brush of raw and pure as of last night. He had stayed until the girl awoke, pondering about his intuition to pull out his most mysterious hat trick for a mere few pointed game.

Calling practice to an end, he had the students clean up as the regulars ran laps around the school perimeter. Sanada pulled him aside, as Seiichi smiled. Knowing full well of how addicting the idea of inexperienced potential could be.

Genichiro has a golden heart, he thought.

"The results?" Sanada pulled his hat down, facing the puffing regulars as they passed by the courts. Almost shameful of his curiosity, he knew his objective was another national championship for Rikkaidai.

"She was blind."

Sanada turned to face the captain, staring into his eyes, as they both understood the idea and power behind the phrase. The girl has much to grow, he had thought. And as the coach and unofficial leader of a team, he could feel the new talent pulling him in.

It's just the instructional intuition, Genichiro dismissed, it's because I've been leading a team for too long.

Genichiro looked into his captain's serious blue eyes, a look too determined to be in such a fragile face. A look too familiar to him, as of the ten years they had known each other; it was the second time he had seen it.

The first, was a declaration of life to a passion of which his friend was known as a Child of God as, and now.

Now, Sanada knew that Yukimura Seiichi had given in into the addiction of the new experience of molding a tennis player.

Not given in, _he had fell down the cliff_.

_And you caused it, _

_And you caused it_,

Seiichi looked away, suddenly feeling tired. The game had worn him out, as did the training this morning. Ignoring the concerned look of his childhood friend, he began the route towards the train station with the team.

Looking behind, Sanada was threatening training exercises as Niou and Kirihara bickered over the last game the latter had played.

A delicate frown was found on Yukimura's lips as he caught sight of his reflection on the train mirror. He recalled the dying flame in Hana's eyes as she demanded point after point.

Somehow, Seiichi could not remove the look of empty green eyes from his thoughts. Almost regretful as he reminded himself that she would grow, and she would thrive, as he had sparked the dormant flame in her determination.

Seiichi gripped Sanada's arm for support as train began moving, feeling oddly disoriented as he smiled at his friend.

He was silent as the train rumbled into a stop, the ride had been quiet as he knew, both captains were debating with themselves.

He looked up into the glooming rain clouds as the train rolled to a stop, "It's going to rain, Sanada."

Last to step off the train, Yukimura desperate to call for help as the world around him faded into a pitch black.

_And you caused it._

_…_

**Thank you for taking the time to read. sorry if it's a bit of a late chapter, but I'm writing this on an ipad, hence copying and pasting and ALOT of editing**

**PM and review :)**

_**M.**_


	5. 4: A Face in the Crowd

Chapter 4: A Face in the Crowd

_"Fate loves the fearless." James Russell Lowell. _

***Italics often or got refer to emphasis on a word, depending on the sentence will also be English. I trust your judgment on the choice, but hopefully you will understand the intended.**

It looks so washed out, she had thought. As she stared herself down in the floor length mirror of her washroom. The light green skirt had been tampered with enough times to notice change, but a school uniform any less. With added weights at the circumference, two pockets and more of a waistline of the shirt, it was all Hana could without being held responsible for changing the uniform. The pastel color made her cringe, an embarrassment to the color green she had declared.

The skirt had billowed just above her knees, Hana had pulled on a set of almost knee high dark socks. Hoping to show as little skin possible; she had on, quite the contradictory, a uniform tee shirt.

Hana sighed as she ran a hand through her hair, untangling the odd knots of her wavy hair. Tugging at the limp ribbon on her chest, she pulled it loose. Deciding that she might get away with it as a new student, Hana stuffed the ribbon into her grey shoulder bag.

_Ding dong! _

The front door opened as their housekeeper; or so her parents had told them; but in reality Hana knew it was the lack of trust they had with three minors inside a house for long periods of time. Their new housekeeper, Keiko; her gentle steps padded towards the entrance, echoing through the Victorian styled home.

Slipping on her black and white Nike shoes, Hana stuffed her things into her shoulder bag. Pausing at her sports bag, she listened to the sound of her sister rushing down the stairs, Hana had thought of no use for her sports bag on her first day.

Stuffing her iPod and earbuds into her pocket, Hana grabbed a bottle of water rushed out the door. Only to double back into her room and swiped the pile of papers off her desk and into her arms. Shuffling them as she calmly stepped down the stairs, the late middle aged woman handed her her lunch bag. A black and green striped trapezoid shaped handbag and a bag of skittles.

"Arigatou." Hana mumbled to the unfamiliar woman as she bowed and nodded.

"Have a good day at school Hana-sama."

Hana grimaced and smiled politely at her. Occurring only once or twice every few months for a week at most, Hana had no idea how to behave under the thought of paid respect towards her. Unlike her siblings who had thrived under the pretense of having a servant or maid. She had long learned to avoid unnecessary communication with the help.

"Hurry up. I'm going to be late." Someone stated as they brushed past her and into the vehicle in front of her house. Looking up from her foyer, a sleek black limo was across her driveway.

The door opened as her brother slid across the seats. Ryo looked at her and gracefully shutting the door shut, marking his seat for the rest of apparent eternity. She ran around the end of the limo, quickly tossing her things inside and slid in the other side across from her siblings, and another visitor.

"So your brother tells ore-sama that you're not attending Hyotei, Hana." A smooth alto voice drawls as the limo began moving. Hana did not have to see past the moving shadows to know who it was.

She looked up nonetheless as she settled into her seat, "I'm attending Seishun Academy something."

"My father offered a guided tour of the high school division of Hyotei when your parents mentioned your brother's acceptance to our prestigious school at a social gathering. We accept the best, and only the best." As if answering the unasked question in Hana's head, which was not in fact proposed.

Hana shrugged, "I see."

Ryo looked thoughtfully and nodded at the younger boy, unhappy with the knowledge of equal footing with the opposite heir. He turned away to lend a thoughtful ear to the conversation he was all too familiar with.

A rare occasion where his preferred sister would engage other heirs and business partners, and one that left a dent of impression of his youngest sister's mind.

"Flattering my brother will get you no where, Keigo." Hana drawled as she leaned against the window. "Where did they go, Ryo?"

Her brother did not turn, his eyes skimmed uncaringly past the seemingly posh neighborhood. "Emiko left for Rikkaidai with Kaito, they go in the other direction."

The three settled into routine silence, the soft whirring of the luxury car filled the empty air.

Atobe Keigo uncrossed his legs, he had been conflicted when his father had informed him of Ryo's enrollment. He was fully aware of the decade long business treaty between both parties, and yet, Atobe had always thought of it as temporary.

Aware of his competition with the opposite boy regardless of family. Keigo was determined when he had set foot into his limo, after sending Kabaji to practice with specific instructions, he had a goal to fulfill and he wasn't sure if he knew it himself. Keigo wasn't sure how to feel of the family, and the inability to break down the situation bothered him greatly.

The corners of Atobe's mouth dropped, his lips were pulled into a straight line. He had always strived to gain the respect and admiration of the ones he deems as important. Arrogance and pride are the stem roots of his past and definite future achievements.

He was on top for a reason, and Keigo proved it.

Pride and arrogance are two different things for Keigo, and he made sure that he never forget the thick line in between. Yet both were a constant in his life, but neither could diminish the self consciousness he felt at that moment.

And sitting in the shadows of his personal limo, quite a distance from his home, along with two not so newly acquired business partners'. For the hundredth's time in his life time in the same presence, he felt underachieved.

Bare.

Unproven.

Dare he say it?

_Not good enough._

Keigo shifted uncomfortably in the foreign leather seats, letting the AC send calm wind through his hair. He looked at the girl with the corner of his eye, contemplating the use of his specialty.

Keigo turned solemn when he realized he would not use it, he was afraid of using it.

He would not give in.

_He would not lose_.

It had been some time since he last saw the second youngest of the Matsumoto brood, and he had no surprises. Whereas the oldest two of the family had Japanese features and an Italian build, Hana and Kaito was no doubt Italian first and Japanese to fill in the cracks.

Hana opened her bag of skittles during the pregnant pause as Ryo and Keigo began to chat about the programs offered at Hyotei. She could feel his gaze off the corner of his eye and no doubt, both boys wanted her to attend the better school.

She was never really close with Keigo, being not as close in age and the opposite gender, Hana never had the chance to openly spend time with him. She knew that Emiko has a subtle crush on the heir, and he was a rival for Ryo. Being born an heir along with the ideas and talents, Atobe Keigo was the perfect threat to her siblings.

When the blue moon sets, they may interact in brief conversation. The differing minuscule times they did, he had treated her indifferently, most prominently using proper pronouns when talking with her. And carefully formed words, like every sentence was a battle of wits.

And perhaps as a guilty pleasure, Hana enjoyed it. Every piece of literature or business they break down or discuss, she had been undoubtedly logically challenged with their discussions. Every war, or so Hana would call it, was a battle worth fighting for.

The limo pulled to a stop in front of the school, Atobe scoffed as the sight of inquisitive students as Hana got her bags. As she prepared to step out the car, a warm hand pulled her wrist.

"The offer still stands." And Keigo slid her water bottle into her hand.

"Arigatou." Hana mumbled, "Bye."

.…

Kids backed away from the car when she stepped out. Almost transfixed with the vehicle rather than the girl that walked out. They whispered about her oddly different uniform, yet they couldn't quite lay a finger on it. They talked about her bags, unlike the designs that 99.9% of the school owned.

After being rushed into the office of the principal's and showed where to store shoes and coats, Hana was already late for her first class.

Ironically, she was required to take English. Scoring a near perfect on the entrance exam, Hana had decided her main focus would be to explore and experience. And tennis, of course.

She rounded the corner down the hall, her bag tapping her leg as she glided down the hall towards class 1-2. Students and teachers peeked at her as she walked past.

Obviously it was uncommon for foreigners to enroll as more than one girl have came up to her giggling, introducing themselves in broken english. Much to her displeasure as she was painfully polite to answer back in Japanese, leaving the opposition red faced and stuttering.

Pausing every few seconds to analyze the oddly plain and dreary hallways, Hana had found her door behind a couple of red faced boys who had talked about her in Japanese, thinking of her ignorance.

Knocking gently on the sliding doors, she paused and listened to the muted chatter of classrooms around her. Hana heard no shuffle of movement towards the door nor any sounds inside, so she shrugged her bag up and slid the door open.

A dark haired boy had just finished scribbling something on the board and was heading back to his desk. He and the rest of the class had turned and Hana felt almost 50 pairs of eyes on her.

The English teacher, judging by the writing on the board, was dumbfounded by the answer of the boy. The bespectacled man had chuckled uneasily before he turned to face Hana.

"Ryoma, g-go sit down." He managed, "_Can I help you? Please_."

Hana blinked at the odd textbook English, she handed him a piece of paper she had fished out of her bag earlier.

"I can speak japanese."

The short man scanned the sheet and smiled largely, Hana grimaced from the flamboyant behavior. "Well then, welcome to class 1-2. My name is sensei Izumi, would you like to introduce yourself?"

"No, my name is Hana Matsumoto." She smiled, turning to the class.

Whispers began through the small cliques as friends turned to each other. Izumi sensei looked as though he was expecting her to continue to say something, Hana held her smile and made her way towards the empty seat by the window. By then, the class had several loud voices.

"She's so rude. She didn't even sa-" started some unibrowed boy to her right.

"Silence. Class, Hana-San is a foreign student. Please help her get used to Japan." Declared the shifty sensei.

Hana had decided that she didn't like him already, too shifty, too uncertain and she could already see the hesitance of his teaching. Even though she had not had a proper teacher in years, Hana knew what would be a good one.

First year teacher, she had thought. Hana frowned, she did not enjoy his statement of literal disability about her. She did not smile but muttered a thank you as he waddled down the lane to hand her a stack of textbooks.

Pulling out a fresh notebook and her pencil case, Hana stuffed her new books into her bag. After creating some unique graffiti inside the cover, of course.

Being homeschooled and private tutors due to her parents' traveling schedule, she had not been inside a classroom for years. Ignoring the rudimentary plural tense on the board, Hana studied the class with sharp eyes.

Poring over every detail, she marveled at the ignorance of kids passing notes and one even asleep diagonal to her right. Several struggled to take notes and Hana noted at the obedience of the class to even a less than mediocre teacher.

The girl's uniform was oddly bright, notably under the fluorescent lights. Hana grimaced, not wanting to see herself in a mirror or reflective surface for the rest of her school life. She had tied the ribbon back on her collar, not wanting to differentiate too much, she suspected that she secretly longed to belong with them.

Several girls in her class had suspiciously short uniforms, almost an entire hand length above the knees. Several had tee shirts and few had tights or socks, Hana noticed that they had similarly shaped backpacks; which she thought looked like suitcases. She glanced at her own soft Jansport bag, it leant pathetically off the side of her chair.

Bright stationary and exaggerated pens and paper made her Hilroy notebook and Staples lead pencils feel oddly plain and ordinary. One girl had a pencil case Hana had mistaken for a teddy bear.

The boys' had it easier, with high collared black button up and a white dress shirt underneath. Black dress pants or shorts underneath, there was no violation of rules and nothing too outrageous with their uniform.

The same boy asleep near Hana was the only one in the class with an odd jacket; a white, blue and red with printing on the back. She remembered seeing it somewhere when she was scoping the school.

The shrill bell disrupted her thoughts as the teacher dismissed the class, gathered his things and headed out. Dozens of students crowded her desk as soon as the teacher had left, everyone introducing themselves excitedly.

Using slow deliberate japanese and some even with broken English. Like the many before them, they had informed her on the common curtesy to say 'Hajimimashite'.

Hana could feel her patience wearing as she took a deep breathe and smiled, "Everyone. I can speak japanese fine. I'm sorry I did not say that earlier, I was nervous."

She played it right, as the girls squealed and the boys laughed, they continued to bombard her with questions.

"Are you English?" A girl blurted out, quickly blocking her mouth in embarrassment.

Hana chuckled, "Don't be embarrassed! I'm half Italian and half Japanese."

"You don't look japanese." Another boy accused. She shrugged and turned to someone else.

"Are your eyes actually that color?" A girl interrupted, as the rest of the crowd around her leaned in to see.

"Yeah, I was born with it."

"I don't believe you." The entire group including Hana turned to see that unibrowed boy with his asleep friend. Oh yeah, Hana had recognized him, he's that tennis boy.

"And why not?" Hana challenged, in disbelief that _he_ dared to challenge her. She had assumed him to be the runt of the class, her first chance to prove herself in her class. It was time to make an impression anyways.

"Because my cousin has two years experience with makeup, and she said that some people wear color contacts." He replied knowingly, smirking to himself.

"Oh please, you probably have two years experience of trying to cover your eyebrow." Hana smiled, "There's no point in wearing color contacts to school. Who am I going to impress?"

The class roared in laughter as the boy slowly turned red, his friend stirred and awakened in the mist of the noise. Hana caught his eye as they locked gaze for a moment, only to be blocked by the sleeked haired boy who had been beside unibrowed man.

Just as Ryoma told Kayo to move, the math teacher had ordered the class to settle down. The boy had stirred to the sound of a familiar voice that made an impression subconsciously, Ryoma had recognized the girl just briefly before their gazes were intercepted. She was that tennis girl, he had thought. What was her name again? Whatever.

The crowd around the new girl had dissolved as their substitute math teacher, Sumire Ryuuzaki set her things in her trademark track suit. She scanned the class briefly, spotting a new face in the crowd. Ryuuzaki's face morphed into an easy grin, calling the new girl out.

Easily picked from the crowd of her foreign looks, Sumire had no doubt she was european. Large eyes and cheekbones, Ryuuzaki had declared that the girl's features were oddly unfitting. She had thought the girl to be annoying, loud and ignorant; judging by the nature of students around her.

Setting her thermos and books down on the desk, Ryuuzaki picked at the envelope that peeked from the pile. The grant had nagged her mind, just as a sudden cry of spontaneous laughter from the students caught her teaching instincts. Looking up, Sumire caught the eyes of the sleek haired girl in center of the group.

Does she play tennis? She thought jokingly, pushing the thought from her mind as Sumire called for the attention of the class. Thus beginning the lesson.

Ten minutes in, the class was on their feet in support of their classmates. Girls and boys were rubbing their sweaty palms in anticipation of their turn. A math game, winner of the two continues on. Longest turn wins as Sumire calls for silence as the students turn to face the class.

As their back to the board, Sumire scribbled a complicated equation on both sides as their new student, Hana was up against one of their esteemed math learners. She signaled the girls to turn and begin the round.

Less than a minute later, a strong done was heard from Hana's side. The opposition had not begun as the green eyed suddenly cried out.

"No! I made a mistake!"

Ryuuzaki eyed the messy scribbles on the blackboard, "You said done, can't change anything! Rika you may continue."

Hana shrugged as the opposition tackled the problem with intensity, "Im still going to do it."

"Wait, what?"

The girl had already made her way to finish and change her answer, the class watched as she lazily scribbled the numbers on to the whiteboard. In opposition to the neat hand writing on the next board.

"Who next? Come up."

.…

The day had passed quickly, before she knew it, it was lunch. An hour and a half for eating and recreational activities such as extra-curricular clubs. After 50 minutes of English, math, and art; Hana had enough of the stuffy classroom and it's inhabitants.

Thrusting her unfinished art project into another classmate's hands, she politely smiled and headed out as the teacher dismissed the class. Sadly for Hana, the class had crowded around her during lunch. Marveling at her 'foreign' lunch of hot pasta, half a grilled cheese, smoothie and hickory sticks.

She had spied the others with a famous japanese item, a bento. Packed tight and creatively with shapes and seaweed, Hana had marveled at the detail of the lunches. Wondering if the mothers had that much time on their hands to pack such intricate lunches.

"Are those _France fries_?" Asked a bespectacled girl, pointing at the ziplock bag of the smoky snack on Hana's desk.

If anything, Hana had greatly appreciated the students' manners of not taking things that weren't theirs. No one had made a move to pick up or touch her food, rather lean in close and point or stare. Yet the latter had her head throbbing with annoyance.

Still, she could not blame them.

Gathering her things before they got their hands on her skittles, she excused herself politely and speed walked out the corridor. With the grilled cheese sandwich in her hand, Hana had enough of her classmates.

Arriving at the comfortable sounds of a tennis court after wandering mindlessly to search for a place to each. Hana settled on the grass by the from of the courts, in the shadow of the tree as she dove into her lunch. Her eyes followed the girls' tennis club hungrily.

Hana's hand ached as they curled in the form of an imaginary racket in her hands. Over the last few days, she had thought of Rikkaidai. She couldn't bear to _hold_ a racket, doing every sort of practice she can without actually playing. Hana had thought of the ethereal grace of Yukimura's tennis, his triumph over her.

Her heart thudded as she recalled that day.

Hana was so sore, such loss after trying so hard. Truthfully, it was so painful. And yet, she felt nothing about it.

Her thoughts were quickly disrupted as a high lob headed her way as a group of students chattered by the sidewalk trail leading towards the courts. Sipping her smoothie, a boy suddenly ran forward as the lob headed towards her scattered lunch.

Just as Hana made a move from her seat to catch the gentle ball, the boy had caught it. Far from collision, Hana stood up quickly at the sudden appearance of the boy, accidentally spilling her smoothie on the grass. A mop of well-layered chin length brown hair, a sort of feminine but strong jaw; Hana was sure of the gender as the male uniform. The same color jacket of the sleeping boy in her class. A tennis player, she thought.

He turned with the tennis ball caught easily between fingers, just as a girl ran out from the opposite sides of the courts. She was part of the tennis club and had long trailing braids as she ran frantically towards them.

"_Are you okay?_" A sweeter alto then of many boys in her class, the boy with smiling eyes looked to her. His eyes flickered at the height difference and to her spilled smoothie on the grass. She raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised at his fluid manner of English speech.

Hana chuckled, "Yes, thank you."

She turned to gather her things, expecting the boy to leave. Only to have him bend down and help her throw out litter as the braided hair girl approached them.

"Are you okay? I-I'm so sorry! It was an a-accident. I was just trying to return one of Marika-senpai's serves an-" the girl had blurted, dropping to the ground to help what was already done. The trio looked past in the tennis courts as a clearly impatient girl was tapping her racket on her shoulder, staring at the group.

"Sakuno-san, it's okay. No ones hurt." The boy replied, following Hana's eyes towards the racket in his hand. "Do you play?"

I've met her before, Hana thought. Turning around, "Huh? Oh, my name is Matsumoto, Hana."

Just as Sakuno opened her mouth, Hana interrupted her. "Don't call me Hana-chan. "

"Please." She finished.

Fuji smiled, "I heard of a Japanese speaking foreign student in Ryoma's class. So it must be you. My name is Fuji Syusuke. Please call me Fuji-kun."

"Nice to meet you, Fuji-kun."

"Likewise, Hana-chan." Electric blue smirked at bright green as he began to walk back towards the chattering group earlier. Surprisingly, it was only him and a teacher. Hana had recognized her substitute math teacher, Ryuuzaki Sumire.

"Ano, my name is Ryuuzaki Sakuno." Sakuno finished weakly, quickly running back towards her waiting senpai.

Hana had automatically followed Fuji as they made their way into the tennis courts, her eyes following the rackets and loose tennis balls rolling around. Picking up the closest racket tentatively, her fingers closed up in an automatic Western Grip. Sliding her empty lunch bag to the crook of her elbow, she bounced the racket in her hands.

Frowning involuntarily, Hana's fingers lighted flitted through the rough marks of the tennis racket. Clearly a violent tennis player as scratches, chipped paint and nail marks decorated the deep purple racket.

The racket was gently slipped out of her hands, causing her to automatically close tightly around it. Looking up, Fuji pulled the racket reluctantly from her fingers and placed another, his own, onto her relaxed hands.

Hana sighed in comfort, like going home, she like the familiar weight and clean smooth polish off the racket. Knowing her own were state of the art, it was close to this quality and clear love of a lower classed equipment.

"Play with me." She blurted, halting half of the rackets in the court. The seniors of the tennis club gapped as they had lent a willing ear towards the suspicious behavior of their beloved Fuji.

"_Why_ would you think he wants to play with you?" Asked a smiling voice. "Our Tensai can't play with every first year that wants a game."

"Yanamaki Marika." Fuji whispered out of the corner of his mouth, "Unofficial captain of the club."

Hana looked up, not hearing the hints Syusuke had dropped;slipped the lunch bag out of her hands, her eyes flying towards the girl. Her green eyes looked wild and electrified as the bell signaled for the start of extracurricular activities.

Fluffy golden brown shoulder length hair, sharp nose and skinny muscles, Yanamaki Marika was a well known third year of her athletics. She eyed the foreign girl coolly, not at all unnerved of that stare. She smiled at the opposite girl, walking over and picking up her deep purple racket out of Fuji's hands.

"Come on. I'll play with you."

.….…...

Ryuuzaki Sumire once had high hopes for the female tennis club she had spent days of ass kissing to form. The passion and fire for tennis was slowly draining itself from the courts on the west side of the school.

It used to be a loud and boisterous environment, until the school renovated the east wing and had new tennis courts, causing the boys tennis team to move from sharing their courts with girls. And thus began the drastic drop of club attendance.

Long gone the equal times she had spent with the girls and boys, honing their skills. Rather, the boys had self training under the supervision of their captain and vice-captains. Whereas Ryuuzaki spent hours with the girls, desperate to improve and attend tournaments.

Marika came to the school as a second year, Sumire could still remember the raw look in the girls eyes of the newly created tennis club. She had no experience with tennis, yet it was the only club she had continued through her extra curricular career.

Famed for her talent in varying fields of sport, Sumire had made the training flexible for her player who she thought was the glue that held the club together.

Ryuuzaki had thought her desperation for an equalling girls club had imbedded itself in Marika's playing style. And while watching the intriguing foreigner, Matsumoto Hana, who had eyed the racket with seemingly fresh interest and new flames.

It felt out of place, much like the boys' courts where she had seen it everyday. Where she thought the look had belonged.

Where she was convinced it was impossible to see it anywhere else.

...

Fuji Syusuke had a new friend, an intriguing character that had entered his life shortly after another talent had barged in as well. Taking it upon himself to referee, he had followed Marika's polite inquisition to allow Hana the serve. He can't seem to pin Hana as a stereotype, Fuji doesn't know enough or has seen enough.

A feeling he greatly detests.

A delicate frown in his otherwise happy face as he called out a serving fault. Syusuke had seen that expression before. Almost a painful notion as he recalled the unfocused look on his brother's face as a bully yet again taunted Yuuta about living up to be Fuji's brother. Hana had appeared to be lost, like an ever going train without a destination, like a lonesome balloon in the night sky, and a child with innocence.

Hana had a serving fault.

Her hands and body remembered the actions, it was her mind that prevented her. Little wisps of the rain had danced in her thoughts. After losing the point to Marika, Hana looked at her hands.

I didn't used to stand like this, she thought. Trying to figure out and position herself comfortably in her old ready position, or so she had thought in her mind. Hana felt like a lost person, with the destination in view but no idea how to get there.

"30-love." Fuji looked on at the girl, he had thought she looked like someone looking for a lost item they had loved dearly.

Yes, he had thought, that's her expression. Piercing blue eyes looked over her ready position and reviewed her serves. Hana's position was perfect, Fuji recalled, she has played.

No.

She has _lost_.

Yanamaki had looked on towards her younger opponent, serving mercilessly as the green eyed foreigner missed another serve. A third ace.

It had been a great day for Marika, her teacher had complimented her on her improvement of her studies. And she was impressing the _Tensai_ of Seigaku with her tennis abilities. It didn't matter who she was against, it mattered that she won.

And when she wins, the attention of Fuji Syusuke will bring many girls to the club. Marika had dismissed the note of selfishness to win the game as she began her final serve to finish off the first game.

Hana was long past facing the oddly snotty upperclassman in a tennis game. To her, it was about facing _herself_ and Yukimura in a mental battle. Three aces, she chanted in her head.

The dark blue haired girl counted in her mind, leaping out of her statue like ready position last second.

A second too late as she arrived at the ball at break neck speed, having to start late, she missed the serve.

"Game. 1-love Yanamaki. Matsumoto serve." Fuji's eyes zoomed in on the girl's movements, further dictating his thoughts of tennis. He can see the familiarity with the tennis ball.

The racket.

The pressure.

She had lost a game. Hana was mentally stunned, just like that night. She had lost a game.

Shaking her head, she was thankful of the silence of her opponent as the few members of the club cheered on their leader.

Tossing the tennis racket between her hands, she felt her left hand with a tighter grip. Hana closed her eyes, and took a shaky breathe.

She could almost see the smugness of the opposite girl at her apparent nervous state. Hana reach in her pocket and tossed a skittle in her mouth.

Throwing the ball high in the air, she began to _play_.

Hana's mouth was never without a skittle a she finished the second game with aces, leaving the older girl unable to touch the ball she had deliberately set close to her feet.

Being deprived of tennis for the past days, or even weeks or so it had felt like, Hana used a variety of tricks she had yearned to try that she had seen that day, at Rikkaidai.

A volley that she had wanted to pause on top the net had taken her a few tries with a different racket. Often she had over done it, leaving Marika scrambling to return the drop shot.

Several tight angle shots Hana had wanted to experiment from different areas of the court. Sending off spinning balls, Hana would then be able to practice the shots she wanted with the estimated location of the shot's landing.

And most of all, she wanted to learn what she had experienced.

The taking of the feelings, but seeing the ferocious fire that lit up her opponent, Hana knew she was not successful and she had no idea how to develop the skill by herself.

Ryuuzaki watched on as the bell signaled the end of the lunch break and the start of afternoon classes. Hana had laughed as the skittle missed her mouth, bouncing it on the rim of her racket, or Fuji's racket; It had landed in her mouth.

Unlike the style of Ryoma, who has a freshness towards new techniques and the quick learning times of a likely photographic memory.

Hana had a comfort of practice and time and love of savoring the sport. It was a nagging suspicion that Hana was trying out new shots, getting lost in her own world.

A skill that Ryuuzaki wanted for her team, and selfishly for her granddaughter in a taunting voice hiding in her mind. Impressive as it's own, the girl was an unknown.

No titles or competitions could have been under the girl's belt. A coach's tuition, you'd say. A warm feeling had spread across the elder woman's large bust and chest, her mind as an educator and guidance leader as she foresee the qualities in her star players.

Sumire was most amazed at the girl's openness in tennis, not as a sport. But as a way to do.

She herself had often questioned, what is sport?

And in what form or way, was it to be bound within set rules that dictated ones life?

Especially to the kids who dedicate their lives, have they not able to see that the boundaries are nonexistent?

Hana have been thrusted blindly outside the boundaries of sport and was exploring the unknown, Sumire was sure of it, and now?

Ryuuzaki was sure a certain team would be the perfect map.

…

Fuji Syusuke was intrigued.

Inspired.

Curious and interested.

He had not many experiences with foreigners, unless you counted the arrogant Atobe Keigo of Hyotei. Who was half English, then no; Fuji had none too many experiences with foreigners.

And yet, he had not thought of the girl of a foreigner. She looked to be, acted to be and yet, was not.

Syusuke had thought the girl was pretty, in both foreign and Japanese cultures. A little combination of pretty features that had not quite fit together yet. She was too mature and independent alone.

Something was wrong, in his opinion, when a girl was content with spending time alone at lunch.

Hana Matsumoto was going to be someone important to him, he had declared. Someone to be overlooked, was his first thought. As the girl had shown him a step of her growth that warmed his heart. Much like the o'chibi that had wormed its way into the male tennis teams' lives earlier that year.

And besides, Fuji grinned, blue eyes watching the girl pummel the opposite girl into submission; Tezuka's got Ryoma.

I'm bound to have something exciting.

As his thoughts followed, Syusuke had spent time with Hana. Walking the long way to class to walk her to class and eventually, as the week trailed to an end; they had an unofficial schedule.

No, a schedule would refer to something permanant. Hana had the nagging feeling of trying to regulate with the friendly senpai.

Time were spent with Fuji often talking about his day, stopping by the photography room and having lunch by the tennis courts. Where Hana would often leave before the tennis members come in.

Syusuke had thought the girl to be stoic and calm, but was pleasantly surprised as she chattered as much as he had done. Laughing and nonchalant.

She didn't _care_.

The girls of the school had noticed their precious Tensai had found a new friend in the foreign student, often judging the girl more then not. The tennis club had wondered where was the smiling sneak during break, and the whispers between the walls had surely reached both students' ears.

But Hana didn't _care_, he mused.

But he had not seen the brilliant beam of her smile again as he did during the game that had the girl imprinted in his mind. A dark place really, his only light a window as eyes capturing the savoring moments through camera, of his new model.

Hana was wary of the glowing senpai, although never really referring to him as a senpai. She was nonchalantly aware of his activities with her, sharing mundane and often or not, well known things about herself.

Hana had not been able to test out the title of a Tensai, as Fuji spent most of the week introducing the many clubs and the little things he had gathered through years at the school.

Conversing in English and Japanese, Hana wanted to say she had found a friend. Often calming herself down, reminding that it only had been a week.

She wasn't sure what to do with Syusuke, who had made it clear he was her friend. Hana had concluded to just dismiss thoughts and _live_.

Impulse and spontaneous topics that she had never dared to ask her siblings.

She wants to be able to share things.

She wants to be the one someone calls in the middle of the night and can depend on.

For the first time in her life, Hana yearned from something other then tennis.

And this time, in the shape of a friend.

…...

Hana jogged steadily as she made her way onto the public tennis courts. Clad in running shoes, denim shorts and a t-shirt, she sighed at the humid weather.

She was still high on the thrum of tennis from the last couple days. The thrill left her needing to get better. The sounds of tennis balls and cries of the sport teased her ears as she caught the ends of a conversation.

"Such weaklings here at the tennis courts, eh Kabaji?" Hana was pleasantly surprised at the voice.

"Usu." an unfamiliar grunt.

Peaking her interest, she quickly climbed up the stairs and noticed the crowds of people waiting and lining up to play. Noting the pairs, Hana quickly deduced the doubles only courts.

A certain grey haired male and his tall accomplice caught her eye as they chatted with a sharp orange haired girl. She sat on the tallest bleachers as the assumed Atobe and the girl made a deal with the unsettling crowd. Hana's mouth pulled into a thin frown, she did not particularly like the girl, nor does she approve of Keigo's dating methods.

The crowd roared in annoyance as, in Hana's opinion, the stupid girl; agreed to date Atobe on the bet. Dropping her tennis racket and ball on to the ground, she watched steadily as the pair demolish their way through the doubles pair awaiting the challenge.

Hana didn't know Keigo was an athlete, let alone a tennis player. She could feel the pure self confidence radiating from his seat on the court as he had ultimate control over the tall thick headed male. Some might call it arrogance, but Hana enjoyed the unwavering constant of his pride.

The rest of the pairs dropped like flies as the frivolous girl began to worry, Hana could see the surprise and lack of determination in the players on her face. A heart shaped face and two green clips on each side of her parted orangey hair. Cute, Hana thought, but nothing more.

Crossing her legs from the breeze, she watched as the last pair went. Debating to herself about joining, she picked up her racket and stepped down the bleachers just as Keigo gripped the girl's wrist. The more the girl shrieked and pulled weakly at his grip, the more Hana got annoyed. You have two hands, she had thought, use them.

"Is this another way of speed dating, Keigo?" Hana asked as her feet touched down on the floor, "I must say, I was surprised. I didn't know you played tennis."

"He didn't even play! He sat there on the ground!" The girl dead panned, ripping her wrist from his now loose grip. "Who are you anyways?" She pointed to Hana.

"_Hana_, did you enjoy the show?" Keigo turned, unsure to feel embarrassed, or overjoyed at the show of his talent. Feeling uncomfortable realizing that she had seen the entire way he had acted towards the players. It felt like swearing in front of your parents, someone important.

No, he thought, why do I feel ashamed?

_I_ won.

_Ore-sama_ won.

And _ore-sama_ did nothing wrong.

His face pulled into a satisfying smirk, one of many that drove girls insane. Hana stared at him, already making his mask crack as her eyes traced back to his own.

Her own smile peaked through as she made her way towards the opposite end, stepping over and walking past unconscious and tired players.

"_Play with me_."

"Wait!" The girl shrieked, her pale blue skirt bounced. "Who _are_ you?"

Just as two boys races up towards the courts, taking their eyes on the sight of the scattered players around the court. Hana paused, sighing to herself as she recognized one of the males from her school.

A school official tennis player, she had recognized, spikey hair and power smashes.

"An-chan! Is everything okay?" An burgundy haired boy called out, his left eye covered. Leaving Hana wondering if there was an injury or scar as his long bangs covered most of the left side of his face.

"What's going on?" Asked the familiar boy as he spotted some familiar players on the ground.

Hana bounced the ball and struck quickly as it bounced, it fixed itself snugly between the space of the two beams that came as one as the grip.

Tucking it under her arm, she made her way into the group as Keigo gripped An once again. Much to the displeasure of the visitors as they challenged Keigo to a doubles game.

"Hana." She paused as she planned to make her way out of the now crowded court at the sound of Atobe's voice. "_Enjoy the show_. Kabaji works very hard."

Atobe had no idea what made him invite Hana to watch their game, though he had confidence in their victory. He turned away as she stood by the sidelines, taking his seat on the court as he opposite teams got ready.

Keigo had felt he held the short end of the stick as he recalled what he had said to her. I sound like a circus trainer, he dead panned.

Not minding a bit that his loyal friend as an animal. Pulling a smirk as he put in short commands as Kabaji played the 2 on 1 game wonderfully. He was faintly aware of Ann Tachibana approaching Hana, and the cold annoyance behind him.

Hana was impressed to say the most, surprised and the flutter of excitement of finding a perfect challenge tingled through her stomach. Almost making her giddy as she watched the first few rallies, almost laughing as Keigo sat down. He's doing what he does best, Hana thought, giving orders.

"My name is Tachibana, An. You can call me An-chan. What's your name?"

Hana was so engrossed in her thoughts, she had not noticed a happy go lucky girl appear beside her, also watching the game. "I didn't really want to drag them into it, but it's so nice of them to so do."

Hana could feel her eyebrow twitch as the opposite girl looked on nervously. Even more so when she realized that the girl was taller then her.

"It is, isn't it?" So mysterious, thought An as she tried to unknowingly coax a name out of the dark haired foreigner.

"MOMO-kun!" Ann gasped as Kabaji had returned the strong smash, with addition strength and astonishing speed. Perfectly aimed at the deep blue, purple eyed male.

Hana followed the ball, unable to see the movement of the ball; she saw the slight movement of the person's arm.

Smiling to herself, she watched as Keigo's eyes widened a fraction before settling into his arrogant grin. Barking out orders that led Kabaji to a stop, the giant had picked up both tennis bags and had a grip on Hana's racket.

Debating on whether to argue or not, Hana had realized that she had not played tennis yet. And with the newfound knowledge of Atobe's tennis abilities, her stomach stirred with trying out her acquaintance.

"Takeshi Momoshiro." The familiar boy declared as Hana sneakily made her way past Ann and the two challengers, "Second year, Seigaku."

Just as Atobe had opened his mouth, the fast paced boy had sneaked in and rushed out his name as well, "Akira Kamio, second year. Fudomine!"

Hana caught the end of Atobe's lazy drawl as she walked out the courts with Kabaji trailing her. Almost feeling the questioning gazes on her back, she sighed. Burying her face in her hands as she rounded the corner. Momo-san's accusing eyes stuck to her like a thorn, no - like an itch you could never get, Hana declared.

Knowing that Fuji had taken the liberty of sticking to her like glue, Hana had been appreciative and thankful to find such-dare she say it? _friend_ during her first days at school. She was also aware of the type of person Fuji had quickly shown himself to be.

Sneakily, a sly grin wormed it's way onto her face as she settled into the awaiting limo. Counting her fingers of the number of tennis players in the school, and then of the official team; there was one boy she had yet to meet.

.…

**I don't like this chapter. Thoughts, comments, review :) edited. **

**Will update more regularly.**

**_M._**


	6. 6: Go with the Flow

**Chapter 5: Go with the Flow**

_"Enjoyment appears at the boundary between boredom and anxiety, when the challenges are just balanced with the person's capacity to act."  
― Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi_

"Do you have a reason for this?"

"Of course I have a reason."

"I'd like to hear it."

"He is nothing but a carbon copy of his father." He paused, a sliver of sunlight landed on his eye, "a prodigy, no less. With unpredictable shots, reaction and tennis feel. He will be nothing more."

"Tezuka," her voice gentle and patronizing, "are you sure he needs this or you do?" He's young and hasn't been through pain and suffering like you have, she had wanted to say.

"He needs it."

"Don't you think the need of him wanting to beat his father is enough?" The experienced coach sat, pouring herself some tea. The afternoon light shown steadily past the windows, where the captain stared unwaveringly onto the setting sun. Beneath, were a clear view of the tennis courts. Where his eyes would trail ever so often, a fleeting moment of longing.

She sighed, "When will it be?"

"In three days. Under the train tracks."

"I have a condition. I'm making use of this grant. There will be another player in the tennis club, she will not be a regular."

"I understand. Arigatou." His mind barely fluttered of this new member. Probably her granddaughter, he assumed. The well organized mind kicked into gear as he prepared for the lesson that will change tennis for his protégé.

…

I think, that I'm selfish.

That feeling of needing someone out of nothing but shallow being, and the feeling of not alone. Despite what you tell yourself, you need them. Doesn't matter who, or when, or where, or _how_.

But then, so is life. The transparent line of accepting yourself and what people see of you. And why, we are dictated, no matter who we are, how our experiences change us; are vulnerable to feelings passed through a simple look or a word.

And I think, Atobe Keigo is perfect for that.

But we, are hypocrites.

He was born to be the king of something, and as luck just happens to not be on his side. He managed to snatch the rightful name as a God and Emperor of Hyotei, with the charisma, looks, and talent enough to fill the shoes that the hopes of the students had built. And I, as a girl brilliant in my own right, had no space in this school.

I stood there, awaiting the cart (yes, a very large campus indeed.) to fetch us and Kabaji. Under the scrutiny of the remaining students of the school that was scattered around the large joint campuses of the high school and middle school division.

Being such dry spontaneous personality that I was molded into by my observances, I had proposed a trip to Hyotei high school. I think it was all Keigo could do was to refrain himself from asking questions, where I know my ignorance towards his tennis abilities left scars at his pride.

I had little faith in my senses, rather relying on my intuition and feel. People can lie, they can manipulate what you see, what you hear, and what you say. But they couldn't change you're thoughts.

I _am_ my thoughts.

And that's all I just about own.

I could see the boredom on Keigo's face as he stood under the shade of an umbrella I did not see appear in Kabaji's hand. As I might never admit it, it was impressive, it is impressive of how devoted their bond is.

"You know." I said suddenly, causing Keigo to snap his face towards me in a sudden motion. "I'm jealous."

His eyes narrowed, I smiled. I had wondered of our exchanges of what he had thought of me. But then again, it was an ominous move on my part to further confuse him in our game.

"Of course, ore-sama wonders why an individual such as yourself feels that way? Although there are several reasons to be jealous of ore-sama, like the many that are already." Keigo rambled on, arrogance seems to be his defense.

After all, the best defense is offense.

"Keigo." He paused, "You're rambling." I continued, "I could have not meant I was jealous of you. Rather maybe of that girl," I randomly pointed to one of many eavesdroppers, "and her skirt."

She blushed, bowed hastily and ran off. Keigo raised an eyebrow, a challenge issued in his eyes. A look of disbelief I had often seen on my brother, not a particular favorite of mine, I must say.

"But, in your favor, it wasn't the case. I am jealous of you." I turned, spotting a flash of onyx hair and bright bag much like my own, "Of you and Kabaji. It's really admirable."

Much like my selfishness, the compliment was a first I had ever given to him. And it was a compliment that will do me benefit. And stir up things for Atobe, who has a golden heart covered in ink. Kicking a rock into a nearby bush, I had smiled at the sound of hissing and hushed curses.

Screens reflect in the sun.

"Hana. It's almost here." Keigo pointed to the increasing sized cart coming our way. "Where are you going?"

"Keigo, let's go play doubles."

I had thought I understood how loved Keigo was in Hyotei, but being bred and schooled with little contact with lower respected people. I had underestimated the shamelessness of some girls. Of our brief wait, I had counted a total of 8 girls come up for an autograph. Not counting the number of girls blatantly staring at us, whispering and crying at the thought of him being taken.

Groups of boys had come out buildings to wave at him, and invite him inside. I didn't do anything to hold him back, yet I had greatly appreciated his stay with me. He was, of course, a student of chivalry.

It was a beautiful tennis court, I breathed in the fumes of the heavens as the smell of tennis wafted through the air.

I fell in love with the courts already, the atmosphere, the constant strive by everyone there to get better. I had no doubt in my mind that every player here wanted to get better. I could feel the hum of their devotion, or maybe just my excitement of seeing such a large group of tennis freaks.

Yes, I mused, _freaks_.

_I like it._

And I think, because of my categorization with Atobe. The privileged feeling felt comfortable. I had spotted my brother making his way towards the courts, it has been some time since I've seen him play.

Once competed in tennis in several European tournaments. Often dropping out as meetings and business ventures expected of a first born intercepted tournament dates. It had been awhile since I had played him, for his knowledge of tennis was far smaller than my own.

I'd rather say, I'm much greater. But arrogance is a bleak quality.

I stood at the entrance of the courts, large four side by side courts. All hard floored; with grass, four courts, in the next encirclement, and I had guessed the one to the left would be four more clay floored courts.

I looked beside me, where Atobe had his hands in his pockets lazily. Almost glowing in the afternoon sun, the challenge of meeting my brother in tennis that torched his steely gaze had met my thoughts.

"Ryo! Surprise!" I called out, tucking my racket under my arm. I approached his group of boys, in the other side, I had spotted a few players make their way to Atobe. No doubt I probably could safely assume him as the buchou of the tennis club.

"What are you doing here?" His hair was slightly damp and he had changed from his uniform I had saw earlier. I had again seen the faint look of a typical brother in his eyes, although he would be pleased, it was my domain that I had visited.

"I got bored." I shrugged. "Lets play. You're warmed up. Doubles, I'm with Keigo."

As if he heard his name, like a dog, his head lifted from his conversation with team players. I nodded and motioned for the court next to me, although currently taken, I was sure.

"Hey, can we use this court?" I asked to the sweaty middle schooler. He looked at me with annoyance and disbelief. His friend looked on impatiently, I held a finger up.

Wait.

"Are you serious?" He demanded, "No. Find your own."

"I wasn't asking." Turning around, I picked up two tennis balls and tapped them over to my brother who was making his way to the courts with another shaggy haired boy. I knew Keigo would make his way here, he can't, he won't refuse this.

We had onlookers, fans, teachers, and scouts around the courts. No doubt, where at a school nobility and talent were it's foundations. A Matsumoto, Atobe Keigo and an unknown girl would catch the attention of everyone.

That, I was sure of.

And I think, because of my selfishness, was the reason I had wanted to go to Hyotei.

Subconsciously, the world is at my hands.

Their world.

…

"You want to serve?" I asked Keigo, my back was to him. I took the liberty to station myself in the front. Tying my shoelaces, I looked up into the eyes of my brother's friend. I scoffed, no doubt would Ryo position himself just to face Keigo.

Suddenly, we had a referee.

And line keepers.

And a good sized crowd.

"I hope you're as good as you say." I teased, "We'll still win if you like sitting. Don't worry."

"Ore-sama doesn't lose. Just don't embarrass yourself." He retorted, walking back to beneath the base line.

I looked down, the polished ground stuck to my shoes. Like a fresh coat of varnish as I gently lifted my foot up many times to test it out. Brand new, I mused. Tapping the nature dusted floor with my racket.

"One set match." I looked up, it was a snarl of a nasal voice. Annoying, really. A bespectacled boy sat on the referee chair royally, suddenly righteous, his dark brown hair fluttered in the wind. "Matsumoto serve."

I met eyes with my brother, we said something. I felt something, and I was sure. Then and now. He had thought less of me.

Ryo looked comfortable with a racket; some people looked like the instrument was an extension of their arm; others, a utensil to hinder their movements. He smiled at me, throwing his tanned arms up like a dancer. He would have been a brilliant dancer, I realized.

I scowled, he would be brilliant either way. I stepped back, clearly into Keigo's zone. I spared him a glance, marking my ball. It was a mediocre serve, little spin and sharp angle, there was no doubt I would never let the first point be won by them. I marked eyes with Ryo across court, he had not moved since his serve. Smirking knowingly, I slammed the ball cross court, spinning and spinning at his feet. Never leaving the ground.

"Love fifteen."

Ryo and I met eyes again, I felt Keigo's presence behind me. I moved back to beneath the serve line, almost in line with Keigo as he served again.

Keigo answered the ball brilliantly, I had faith in his playing enough to stop worrying about the opponents shots I deliberately miss. Rather, Ryo was calculating. He was thinking and was strategizing.

It was a long rally between him and Keigo during the third game. 2-1, as I felt the clash of not just tennis appear. The cheering was none existent in my head, I wish I could say the same for the others.

I stuck out a racket suddenly during their rally, I could hear the annoyance of the crowd as they cheered on their King and his new Dark Horse formidable in his own way.

"Game. 3-1 Atobe. Er, girl. Serve." The sun gave a strange glint on his glasses, oddly purple in reflection. Such an interesting voice, I turned, _annoying too._

As observant as I was, I would have to be blind, deaf and have no sense of common knowledge to not know the whispers and doubts of the crowd.

"Keigo." He turned reluctantly to face me. His hair had bounced easily as we played, a trickle of sweat at its ends, it's nice to know the King feels labour. "Pick a number between 1 and 100. "

"89." I had no idea why I asked him, 89. Such a _royal_ number, I like to think I have a case of synesthesia. Yes, _a rich burgundy red color_. _Generous, trivial and mindful. Such_ a number.

_Eighty nine._

_Quatre-vingt neuf._

_Ottana nove._

A feeling of triumph and cunning agility.

I had lost my conscious mind during my serve. An odd flutter of admiration for Keigo's impressive double smash. It was a blur, but it was happy. I think that I had pretended the cheers were for me, I was cheered for. I lived a dream. I must have been, a warmth fluttered in my chest.

_Yes. This is tennis._

I think, that self benefit and pride is a terrible combination. I think, that I am selfish to a point of generosity. Frankly, I don't care.

I gripped the racket with my left hand, switching after a tedious angle of play. The brotherly annoyance had never diminished form his eyes, rather replaced and overshadowed by his annoyance with Keigo's ability.

_I loved it._

I loved seeing perfection, of self perfection and maintenance. I love being and having the ability to change it. Ryo is so much an organizational freak it's enjoyable, a quote fluttered through my mind. The bigger they are, the harder they fall.

_Beautiful_.

"Game 4-1 Change courts."

It had been only one game? I looked towards Keigo, who had turned away to pick up fresh towels off Kabaji.

I ran a hand through my hair as the wind set off a fluttering breeze. Bringing the smell of perfume, lunch and sweat danced into the courts. Calming myself of my breathing and want to injure the referee's voice. Keigo and I made our way leisurely across court, the crowd was an oxymoron it self. Cheering and degrading both though Ryo more than Keigo.

"You play well, ni-san." I muttered as I passed him. Keigo was waiting with Kabaji standing loyally beside him. Jealous, yes.

Very much so.

I had remembered the days where loneliness ebbed away through losing myself in something. Where the indent in the wall from the impact had bothered me so, for little reason as I continued to pound that circle on the practice wall with my tennis ball. I had broke through several drums under intense sessions as an excuse to stay in tuned and flow against an united movement I had known as music.

Where I had little memory of the ideas, and words. Because it was meaningless, what are words if you really don't mean it?

And here I was, playing a game that I had claimed to love against an unknown long time acquaintance, a stranger, and an estranged brother. No - estranged was too distant of a word.

But I like it. The word, _estranged_.

Sounds like a loving tangle of curly hair. An eccentric character, willowy and bird beaked. Has glasses, no - reading glasses. Dresses in vintage, has a preference to Aristotle and loves honey ginger tea.

_But bitter, very bitter._

Yes, estranged.

I smiled, tennis. Going back to tennis, I gripped the racket in my hands. A visual of the word sprang in to my mind, I listened to the oddly calming sound of squished grip. Leather like, and fitting.

It was a games of tennis, my tennis. The sport I had bested, I had dominated, my sport.

I had no doubt I would win._ I always win._

Arrogance is a wonderful emotion to indulge yourself. Although as I teeter off the edge of the positive effects of human sociology, I will lose myself.

Much like the blurry actions that I had done during the duration of the pathetic game. The win was a brilliant way to introduce myself to the Japanese world, much like the snobby and desperate kids vying for their parents attention. I knew, that I would be the wildfire spread.

And my brother, of course.

May we never forget the heir.

_Heirs_.

The apple of their eye, the fruits of their labour, and as the Cinderella's mouse; I felt the obligation to contribute. Consider this my contribution, brother.

May the force be with you, I smiled.

"Game, 6-1. Keigo and girl." The dead, yes; very much dead voice declared upon the courts. The crowd had long resorted to cheer for the united school of Hyotei.

I had draped myself on the sleek bench off to the side of the court, closing my eyes under the steady sun. I relished in the constant warmth, my mind trailing off to the most constant and dependable source in life. Out of boredom, my arm swung out the edge of the bench, I bounced a tennis ball randomly on my racket.

Suddenly, it was cold. The constant was disrupted, blocked, shadowed. "Hey, kid. What are you doing? This isn't the middle school courts. Can't you see sign? Get out."

I continued bouncing the tennis ball off the rim of my racket, focusing on the feel of the ball. Just a little longer. I suddenly cradled the ball, peeking one eye open. Sure enough, the guy had tried to grab the tennis ball.

I smiled, I can't believe I timed it right.

"I can't see the sign." I leant on my elbows, holding my hand to my face as they moved out of the way. I felt the constant and the steady again. It seeped into my bones.

"She's with ore-sama." A snarky voice interrupted.

"No, Hana is going home." Another authority dead panned.

"Hana is staying." I said, leaning back to onto the bench. Once again bathing myself in the warmth and casually bouncing the tennis ball. "Is there actually a sign?"

Suddenly, the weight and feel of the tennis ball hitting my racket was gone. It didn't land. I frowned, my warmth suddenly turned a sour color of yellow. "Keigo, give it back."

"Ore-sama wouldn't trouble himself to catch your tennis balls." He scoffed, I cracked open my eyes.

Ryo was bouncing the tennis with concentration off the rim of his tennis racket, looking rather intense. _God, chill bro._

"There's a huge sign right there. Can you not see it?" I turned awkwardly to see the blurry slab of cement off the fencing, a group of girls was giggling beside it.

"Nope. I see a blurry slab of bad colors." I commented as I leant back onto the bench and leant my racket against the seat.

"She's nearsighted." Ryo explained, still concentrated as it was his distracted voice. He almost sounds like a kid. "Doesn't wear contacts, and is too stubborn to wear glasses."

Of course, he's precise when he's distracted too.

"I don't need it. I can see just fine." I insisted, feeling drowsy under the warm blanket of light and happiness. _It was raining happiness._

"_I didn't know you cared so much for your appearance, Hana._"

"Have respect for your Japanese roots, Keigo." I yawned. "And I don't. It just gets in the way when I play sports.."

Naps are life's gifts given at your time of need.

_Beautiful_.

…..…

I was nervous, the uncomfortable fluttering in my stomach, the need to puke and turn. I marveled at my physical state, one foot in front of the other, I walked numbly behind the smiling older classmate.

My hands were clammy and gripped my bags nervously, I wanted to seem cool. To have a brilliant introduction.

To seem untouchable.

It was a bad hair day, I touched my hair as the cool afternoon wind swept the leaves off the ground. A mass of messy curls as I had forgotten the unspoken rule of combing my hair, _don't do it_. I had sworn I had sweat marks under my armpit of my uniform, my skirt had a hole or a weight had fell out from the hemlines.

My mind fluttered through these worries, my face impassive. Smiling even, confidant and unnerving.

Yes, I _don't care_ what they think. I looked up towards the taller boy, again, the genuine good looks took me away. I don't give a shit. I'll just be fine.

I spied a tennis ball peaking from under the bush off the side of the building, only to be a wrapper for something. The sheer foolishness of the same coloring of the two had me chuckling, I really am blind.

"You thought it was a tennis ball?" He held out a hand, reaching for a bag. "It's bad manners to let girls carry their own bags."

I smiled, never experiencing this politeness. Almost making me suspicious, rather I enjoyed it. "_Thanks_."

The tennis courts rolled into sight as we closed in on the facilities, pitiful compared to Hyotei's courts. But impressive in its own right. Boys were scattered around the courts, separated by uniforms. The unique bright blues that had caught my eye were the ones my very, and only friend were sporting.

"They'll like you." Fuji smiled, I spared him a look. "Don't worry."

I _hated_ his smile. I realized, Syusuke had different smiles. His eyes were the only indication of genuine feelings. His smile was so common, so _fake_.

Something he gave to everyone, polite manners. Cold and unfeeling, somber and thoughtless._ I hate it_.

"- on a sick leave."

"Oishi?"

"Sick leave."

"That sounds suspicious."

A spray of breath, "Mind your own business."

"Everyone, 10 laps around the courts. Official members, 12. Then stretching and drills." a healthy old woman barked out, "First years, pick up balls. Second years, 175 racket swings. Official members, drills."

I had hovered at the door, the invisible barrier had pushed me to the edge of the courts. My shoes had a parallel line behind the thin crack of the repeated closing doors, unsure of what to do. This is so awkward, I'm definitely interrupting something.

Dressed in my uniform, I assumed some boys glanced my way. I saw flashes of faces, unsure of their eyes. Syusuke had waltzed in, only to be greeted animated by a energetic boy with brilliantly red hair, and a bandage, judging by its color and shape, stuck to his cheek.

The group was normal, as normal as it is meeting a group of new people. The coach was another story, I didn't think I had seen such healthy body face to face when her age was also so prominent. Her face turned towards me, a wide smile broke across her face. Weariness edged her eyes.

"Hana! Come in. Come in. Don't be scared!" She cooed, I smiled politely as she shouted out encouragement for the boys. Fuji had spared me a glance as he nodded and headed off with the boys.

_Should I be feeling betrayal? Is this betrayal?_

"You wanted to see me?" I had reached just under her shoulders, so I turned to face the courts. Scanning the courts briefly, I had a brief glance of the courts. The members' activities, and ability as they ran laps.

"Yes, has Fuji told you anything?" Her voice elderly and worn. I turned to face her, because it was polite. My math teacher, Sumire Ryuuzaki was warm; everything about her was warm. The features and wrinkles that told of her years, the way she speaks and her eyes when she looks over the students.

"No."

Almost too warm. I had thought, like the warmth of a roasted fire. It burns me, _the warmth burns me._

"I see, go run some laps." She ordered, I turned to her in almost disbelief. Catching myself in time, she's a teacher. I nodded after a glance at her analyzing eyes, I jogged towards the two groups of boys.

Had I been too cold?

I steadied myself in an even pace, overhearing that the group had done 4 laps already from some obnoxious boys. The groups had split between the second years and the blue members, with first years trailing the pack. I had settled myself between the ten meter difference between the group Fuji was in and the green uniformed.

My feet rolled off the ground as the crunching of pavement met my ears, the conversation died down as I heard the puffs and huffs of the boys grow louder and the complains voice. Holding my form, I dictated myself to even out my breathes, focusing on my feet and my steps.

_One, two, three, four.._

Boys behind me had begun to fall back, leaning off the fencing and complaining for water.

_Five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten.._

I had realized the entire group behind me were done or exhausted. Feeling the strain on my legs, my breathes shuddered. Swallowing a dry breathe, I sped up my pace to trail a meter or so behind the blue group. Closing my eyes for a breathe second as I try to even my breathing again. Ryuuzaki-sensei had not told me when to stop, she said to run.

I could feel her warm gaze on me.

Beside me, Fuji appeared. Falling from the pack, he had jogged evenly beside me. I didn't spare a glance towards him, knowing that he would, no doubt be smiling.

"Keep up well, ne?" He asked calmly, his breathe shuddered. No more than any other jogging he would have done just as easily.

"Hmm." I shrugged, as we rounded another corner. The group had sped up, almost sprinting towards what I had assumed as the last lap.

"We're done when we round the corner." I spied a piece of bouncy brown hair his way as he sped up towards the group.

_Traitor_.

I smiled, a sudden carelessness of excess energy as I veered right, dodging the falling behind pair of the redhead. The group had blasted past the corner and collapsed, I continued for a few steps as I gradually slowed to a stop. Raising my hands above me head, I leant back and stretched like a cat. Bouncing down to touch the ground before gingerly walked towards my bag.

I scanned the courts blindly, my tennis bag was brightly colored, I resorted to walking leisurely next to the fencing, where the bags lay. I turned back to see the boys' activity, only to gather them grouped by the old lady.

_Hmm_, I had mused, _this could be a start._

"Oi!" I turned, water bottle in hand. Only to see the groups' gaze in my direction, the busty lady waved. "Get over here, Hana!"

"Hai." I tossed my water bottle against the fence, ignoring the clatter of the impact. I made my way towards the group. It was a good group, and I feel like, it's going to be my group.

Soon, I had hoped. Because, hope is all I had.

"Tezuka and Ryoma aren't here today, we'll be doing -" That name, Ryoma. _Ryoma Echizen_. A list of qualities and student opinions rolled into my mind, tennis prodigy, arrogant, idolized, and former English whiz.

It was _him_. The boy with the tennis ball, the hazel eyes, _him_.

"Hana?" A sweet sugar voice asked, I found myself looking into the eyes of Syusuke. He smiled, with concern and hidden meanings. _Like he's up to something,_ I had thought.

"Let's go."

Screw it all, I'm playing tennis.

I shrugged off Fuji's helping arm, and jogged forward. Beaming, I picked up my racket and positioned myself just beside the net, behind the line. With tennis ball in hand, I plopped myself on the ground as the upperclassmen played. Spying a loose ball, I saw an empty basket across from me. Tossing the tennis ball in hand, I served towards the loose ball. My upper body spun as I watched both balls bounce, the spin had sent both into the basket.

I grinned, picking up another tennis ball onto my lap. Awaiting for the loose balls to come. I turned as the other boys had resorted to running after the rolling fuzz, using a basket to catch and a few waited for the balls to collect. Idiots.

"Hana! Watch out." My neck snapped towards the voice as a tennis ball came hurtling my way. I was sitting just a bit in front of the referee chair, cross legged. Sticking my cool blue racket up, the ball bounced high and into the basket. With two other tennis balls.

_It's a good day._

I called out, "I'm okay. Thanks!"

_It's a good day._

_…_

**just a reminder that italics may mean thoughts or other languages such as English. **

**thank you! **

**Any beta readers interested on helping me? Please let me know. **

**Reviews are welcome. Updates will be regular.**

**love,**

_**M.**_


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